


Affection Ultimately Mine

by pssychotropical



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Aged-Up Characters, Consensual Infidelity, Flashbacks, Jealousy, Long-Term Relationship, M/M, Miscommunication, Photographer Na Jaemin, Threesome, around 26 to be precise, opening a relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:55:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25982440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pssychotropical/pseuds/pssychotropical
Summary: Jaemin and Jeno have been a couple for more than four years now. After a series of misunderstandings, they decide to open their relationship.
Relationships: Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin
Comments: 8
Kudos: 66





	1. Chapter 1

"I cannot believe you let her do it again." As soon as they walk into their apartment, Jaemin shoves his pair of keys on the shelf, with so much force that they bounce back and Jeno catches them mid-air, before closing the door and putting the shopping bags on the floor. Jaemin's figure is now in the kitchen, moving so fast Jeno can't possibly keep up with him, emotions mixed with caffeine making his body restless. "I asked you not to talk to her about it," he says from the kitchen. "And what did you do? You called her and blabbed about everything, like the mommy's boy you are."

It's the same argument they have had on numerous occasions over the course of their now four year long relationship and as much as Jeno likes to think he has grown immune to the names Jaemin calls him, in his meanest, most stingy voice of an angry boyfriend, this one always manages to make his blood boil.

"It's just a rent," he replies, no longer as contained as he was back in the car, where he had to make sure Jaemin's rant didn't distract him from the road. Jaemin loved starting all of their arguments in the car because he knew Jeno wouldn't be able to defend himself. "She's just paid our rent," he repeats with irritation. "Do you really have to be so mad about it?"

When he comes into the kitchen, Jaemin's figure is finally standing still, arms crossed on his chest and the dark circles distinct around his eyes, proof of another sleepless night.

"You know it's not a big deal to her," Jeno adds, and immediately after the words leave his mouth, he knows he shouldn't be saying them. Jaemin's face is distorted by a spasm of annoyance.

"Are you playing dumb?" Jaemin asks him, in such a serious tone that it makes Jeno wince too. "I'm not talking about the money. I know she has it. If it wasn't for me, she would probably be still paying your rent every month and you wouldn't say a word."

Jeno runs a hand over his face, which now grows rapidly hotter and more red because, well, Jaemin's probably right about that. Ever since they began to date four years ago, Jeno's mother remained the most frequent instigator of their arguments, constantly calling Jeno on the phone and asking questions on issues which really shouldn't concern her at all. Jeno feels like she's been having a hard time accepting the fact that he no longer needs her as much as he did in the past. He's twenty six now, for god's sake.

"Oh really," Jeno says. "So if it's not the money, then why exactly are we arguing right now?"

Like he can't stand looking Jeno full in the face any longer, Jaemin goes back to bustling about. On the way home, he's drunk his second coffee of the day and Jeno guesses it to be the reason behind this increased hyperactivity. He's been telling Jaemin so many times now to cut back on caffeine. And start sleeping like a normal human being.

"So you don't know why we're arguing?" Jaemin asks him rhetorically. He opens the fridge and brings out a bottle of milk, clearly about to prepare another mug of coffee. Jeno doesn't have it in him to stop the process. "My two photoshoots got cancelled and I specifically asked you not to tell her, so the next Christmas break I wouldn't have to listen to her complaining about my 'failed photographer career'."

Jeno furrows his eyebrows. "Did she really tell you that?"

Hunching over the kitchen counter and pouring instant coffee into a mug, Jaemin doesn't look at him. His demeanour seems to be changing. "Of course she did," he responds, his voice altered as well.

When Jeno comes over and props his both hands against the kitchen counter on either side of Jaemin's body, Jaemin doesn't stir away from it. Jeno presses his chest to Jaemin's back and slowly places his chin on Jaemin's shoulder. The man sighs.

"You should have told me about that," Jeno tells him, very quietly, and all of a sudden, from the loud mess that they were when entering the apartment, they both turn unexpectedly still and silent. "I'm sorry about the photoshoots. I thought it wasn't a big deal."

Jaemin puts the spoon into his mug and then lets both of his hands listlessly lie on the surface of the counter. They stay in this position for a while, faces very close but not looking at each other, their breathing slowing down. "I think she's right."

Jeno shakes his head. "You're doing fine." Before Jaemin has the time to disagree again, Jeno continues, "We're going to pay her back by the end of the week. Is that okay?"

Jaemin closes his eyes and takes a deep breath in, clearly stopping himself from saying something which would only keep the argument uselessly going on. "Fine," he replies at last, suddenly feeling very small and defeated in Jeno's arms. He doesn't end their embrace, at least not immediately. Only when Jeno tries to kiss him on the cheek, he moves away. "Don't tell her we talked about it," he asks Jeno, continuing to prepare his coffee.

"So you told her," Chenle repeats after Jeno. "And Jaemin doesn't know?"

Blushing on his neck, partly owing to shame, partly to the glass of daiquiri he's just swallowed in one go, Jeno sighs. "She just-- really pressured me. You know how my mother is."

Even in the dim lights of the club, the same one they frequent most of their weekends, Jaemin's favourite, Jeno can see the judgment darkening Chenle's features. The corners of the man's lips tug down and his eyebrows furrow. "Man. That sucks," he comments.

They're alone at the table right now, everyone else dispersed around the club, which is exactly why Jeno chose to broach the subject, feeling anxious and in urgent need of someone to share the burden with. Chenle doesn't seem to appreciate the position of Jeno's best friend in moments like this.

"I just needed to get this out of my system," Jeno explains. The club lights reflect on his glasses in a particularly headache-inducing way, and he regrets not wearing his contact lenses instead. "There's so much going on lately. Dude bailed out from paying his share of the studio rent, then those two cancelled photoshoots. I don't want to add more things for Jaemin to be angry about."

Chenle sips on his drink. "How considerate of you."

Jeno clicks with his tongue. "Asshole." He looks over his shoulder, towards the bar, where his boyfriend departed with his wallet. It doesn't look like he's coming back yet, so Jeno feels safe to continue. "She wanted to call Jaemin herself. Offer some money. Maybe offer a position at her friend's school too. You can't even imagine how long it took me to talk her out of this." Frowning, he taps with his fingers against the table. "Anyway. The point is, I can't believe Jaemin hasn't told me before about the conversations he's had with her since Christmas. I didn't know she hated his job _this_ much."

Chenle sniggers. "You didn't know?" He pauses and Jeno makes that facial expression which says, what do you mean. "I don't think you love his job either, now do you?"

Jeno raises an eyebrow.

Chenle lifts his hands, palms out, like he's surrendering. "Hey. If you ever want to talk about it..."

Jeno doesn't respond and they both fall silent until Jaemin and Yeji come back to their table, carrying drinks in their hands and laughing about something that must just have happened.

When Jeno looks at Jaemin questioningly, his eyes widening with interest, all Jaemin says is, "I think that the bartender is hitting on me," in a voice which would suggest he's joking, only Jeno doesn't find it funny at all.

"Oh really?" he asks, trying not to sound jealous. Things like this happen and won't stop just because Jeno wishes them to, and whether Jeno is snuggled to Jaemin's side, proudly claiming the ownership, it doesn't change the fact that Jaemin's an undoubtedly handsome man. Wherever he goes, he attracts the attention. It just comes with a face like Jaemin's.

Jeno isn't drunk enough to go to the bar and get himself into a fight with the aforementioned bartender, but the idea undeniably crosses his mind.

Tipsy smile on his lips, Jaemin places two glasses of daiquiri on the table, one for Jeno, one for himself, holding them by their long slim legs, then sits beside Jeno, making their bodies brush. "I asked if he's ever thought about posing for an underwear commercial, because, I mean, just look at the muscles hidden under this bartender uniform, and he asked me if I've ever thought about sucking his dick in a public restroom. I would call that flirting, wouldn't you?" When Jeno blinks his eyes, Jaemin starts laughing. "Don't worry, babe, I said no." He lifts one hand and reassuringly squeezes Jeno's arm, before pointing at the glasses. "Either way, I've got these for free."

In one second, Jeno no longer feels like drinking daiquiri. He crosses his arms on his chest and the gesture, so obviously exaggerated, earns him a few more chuckles, most notably from Jaemin.

They're still pretty drunk when they finally arrive to their apartment around two am, and whenever Jaemin gets drunk Jeno knows that he also gets clingy. This night isn't an exception.

He holds onto Jeno's arm and insistently snuggles to his shoulder the entire taxi ride and all the way up the staircase, babbling to himself and almost causing them to lose their balance on the second floor. When Jeno points that out, Jaemin bursts into laughter so loud that it must wake up at least a few of their neighbours, and somehow Jeno finds that idea very amusing. He's giggling now too, as he struggles to aim with the door key, his motor coordination substantially affected by both the alcohol and Jaemin's whole body hanging on his one shoulder.

As soon as they get inside and their laughter subsides, Jaemin drags them to the bedroom, en route taking off his coat and dropping it on the floor, then proceeding to make them both crush onto their bed. The process of undressing isn't as easy as he might have expected. His moves aren't exactly coordinated and it requires their joined effort to free Jaemin of his shirt. Jeno reaches over his head and yanks his own t-shirt off in one move, before leaning over Jaemin and continuing to trace kisses down the man's neck.

"I couldn't tell you that in the club," Jaemin starts. It doesn't sound like the previous drunk blabbering but it's not exactly Jaemin's sober voice either. Jeno makes a hum to signal that he's listening, his lips now on Jaemin's throat. "You know, everybody was there, that's why... but when you got so jealous, about the bartender--"

"I was stupid," Jeno quickly interjects. He lifts himself on his elbows to look Jaemin in the face. "I'm sorry about that."

Lying on the bed, his honey brown hair spilling on the white pillow and his eyes staring at Jeno through the thick curtains of his eyelashes, Jaemin chuckles again. He rakes his fingers through Jeno's hair and says, "Don't apologize. I think it's really sexy when you get jealous. That's what I wanted to say."

Jeno doesn't think about it much. He makes a laugh, like it's a joke, then leans down and brings their lips to a kiss. He pushes Jaemin's ultra tight trousers off his legs, removing them together with the underwear, and in the time that it takes him to do so, Jaemin begins to squirm, his hips jerking like he can't help it, looking for any kind of friction on his throbbing crotch. With the trousers now carelessly thrown on the floor, Jeno leans in and returns to kissing Jaemin.

He's not giving a very impressive performance, he knows that, but neither is Jaemin, and their expectations aren't high to begin with. It's one of those nights where all that matters is a quick completion, and Jeno happens to be in charge of it. He hurriedly brings out his own hard-on, spits on his hand and proceeds to jerk them off, both cocks at the same time, sloppy and impatient.

Holding onto Jeno's neck extremely tight at first, fingernails almost digging into Jeno's skin, Jaemin gradually loses his strength, and in the last moments before his climax, moaning and squeezing his eyes shut, he's just a mess of listless limbs, which Jeno gingerly holds to his chest.

He comes first, Jeno joins him soon after, both spurting wet and hot on Jaemin's sunken chest. And then, barely does Jeno catch a breath, Jaemin's already asleep in his arms. His head is turned to a side, cheek sinking deep into the pillow, and eyelashes lying pressed to his heated cheeks.

It takes a little bit of logistics to climb out of the bed and clean their mess off of Jaemin's chest with a paper towel, but Jeno manages to do that without waking the man up. They're going to be so hungover in the morning, he thinks to himself, turning his alarm clock off. He removes the rest of his own clothes and gets in the bed, covering both of them with a duvet and wrapping himself around Jaemin.

Jealousy was something Jeno had been struggling with ever since they started dating, and it only intensified with Jaemin's new job. The fact that his boyfriend worked with a bunch of handsome, beefy models, posing in just their underwear whenever Jeno visited the studio, it bothered him much more than Jaemin's irregular schedule or relatively low income. That and the knowledge that Jaemin had regular photoshoots commissioned by the model agency where his ex worked.

"You're adorable," Jaemin said, after one of the visits Jeno paid to his studio. He was carrying a mug of coffee into the living room where Jeno was sulking on their newly bought couch. It had the colour of a green bottle of beer and matched their ikea coffee table. Bookshelves, a coffee table, then a couch. With every added detail, the apartment felt more and more like their home. Chuckling, Jaemin sat down beside Jeno. " _You_ were jealous of _him_?"

Jeno made a low sound in his throat. "Let's just say that I wasn't fully comfortable sitting in a room with a complete stranger who had his dick squeezed into the tightest pair of thongs I've ever seen."

His skinny legs crossed at the ankle, Jaemin draped his arm around the back of the couch, and while doing so brushed his fingers against Jeno's ear. "I feel like you had a better look at his dick than I did," he joked. "And, you know, I was the one photographing it."

Jeno leaned into the brief touch of Jaemin's fingers, ever so slightly. "I know I'm being ridiculous," he admitted.

Jaemin shook his head. "What's important is communicating your feelings," he reminded Jeno, in that tone of voice of someone who had had at least two years of psychology classes in his curriculum. "Next time you come over, I'll make sure that all of my models are modestly dressed, you prude." He smiled at Jeno, then moved his arm on the back of the couch. "Though I see no reason for you to feel threatened, if you know what I'm saying." His finger helpfully pointed at Jeno's crotch.

"Very funny."

Jaemin chuckled at his reaction. He changed his position, bringing his face closer to Jeno's, and said, "Now give me a kiss, honey." Jeno faked reluctance but followed the order immediately, letting their lips meet in a sweet, reassuring kiss.

How Jeno met Jaemin was at a college graduation party organized by one of Chenle's friends, three camper trailers set by the lake and a whole bunch of people Jeno didn't know and wasn't introduced to, playing music and barbecuing ribs in the moonlight. Jeno was left to himself most of the night, standing on the pier with a bottle of beer and staring at the lake with his arms propped against the wooden banister, wondering why he agreed to come here to begin with. That's when Jaemin appeared by his side.

He looked like the kind of guy Jeno wouldn't ever have the balls to approach in a club, tall and slim like a model, with every detail on his face so overwhelmingly handsome it reminded Jeno of the faces he saw on the advertisements hanging in the metro.

"Sitting alone, wearing glasses," the man started, giving Jeno a full body look. "I'm guessing you're a science major."

Jeno pushed himself off the banister and gave a laugh, which sounded rather awkward and constrained. "You got me. Jeno. Software engineering."

"Never saw you on campus." The man reached out to shake Jeno's hand. His grip was confident and sent a whole lot of nervous sparkles through Jeno's skin. "Jaemin. Pedagogy. Don't ask why. I always tell people I chose my major by throwing darts at the college brochure." He held Jeno's hand a bit too long for it to not feel intentional, then smiled when Jeno shoved his hand into the back pocket of his jeans.

"Sounds impressive," Jeno replied. He earned a chuckle from the man's finely chiseled pair of lips. His eyes were looking at Jeno intently, appraising and sparkling with amusement.

"Congratulations to us and our very impressive degrees then," he said, raising his own bottle and clinking it against Jeno's. They drank the toast and next time Jeno looked at the man, he was standing much closer, their faces barely inches apart. "Who did you come here with?"

A thought crossed Jeno's mind that maybe he was being flirted with, but he quickly shook it away, turning towards the beach and pointing at the group of people who stood there by the grill, now looking more like a bunch of shadows making too much noise. "A friend of mine."

Jaemin clicked with his tongue. "And he left you alone. That sucks."

Jeno made a face which said, that didn't surprise him at all, a typical outing with Chenle. The whole three years of college, every booze-up at a club and every party Chenle organized in their room, Jeno always found himself left behind. Not that he minded that too much.

He hesitated, then mustered the courage to ask, "What about you?"

And as if he was just waiting to hear the question, this weird specimen of a social butterfly who was only too glad to talk about himself, Jaemin smiled meaningfully. "I came here with a date," he revealed, "but I'm pretty sure that he's sucking his ex's face somewhere in the woods right now, like I wouldn't know about that." He paused, then looked at Jeno. "Which I guess makes me officially single tonight."

He had a distinctive voice, a way with words and a charming little laugh, which nobody could possibly stay indifferent to. He must have been the type, Jeno was musing, who joked with the professors after their lectures, and who joked with cashiers too, while doing the shopping, effortlessly coming up with things to say to complete strangers, in ways which made them feel good about themselves. Jeno felt good when talked to by him. Like he was the chosen one at the party, the one Jaemin decided it was worth spending time with. One on one.

Their conversation on the pier lasted maybe an hour, and Jeno spoke very little overall, too stupefied by Jaemin's beauty to form coherent sentences, only staring at the man in shameless awe, occasionally nodding his head and one time clumsily pouring beer over his shirt in a poorly executed attempt at pointing at something on the sky. Jaemin, leaning with his arms crossed on the banister, back arched and long neck shining in the moonlight, laughed in a reassuring way. Don't worry about that, his laugh seemed to say. There's nothing to worry about. His laugh worked like a charm.

Jeno had no idea how one thing led to another. How this one awkward conversation resulted in a phone call made a few days later.

Jeno had just moved into a new apartment with Chenle, previously his roommate at the college dorm, and was still in the process of unpacking his belongings, sitting on the floor surrounded by a sea of boxes, taking his books out, dusting them off and grouping according to their size and subject matter. He was so focused on the process that he didn't even register when the phone began to ring.

Seeing the unknown number on the screen, he frowned, swallowed, then quickly stood up from the floor, unconsciously fixing his pyjamas top, as if his soon to be interlocutor was going to see him in person, looking all messy, mustard stain on his collar.

"Yes?"

There was a pause and then the voice came. "Jeno, right?" Jeno recognized it at once. He could see the man's lips curling into a smile, like the image from that night at the lake was printed on his retinas, and felt almost embarrassed by the fact how much that meeting with Jaemin had impressed him, even though technically nothing happened. "It's Jaemin here. We met at the camping party."

Jeno managed to stop himself from saying that of course he remembered. How could he forget someone like Jaemin. "Yeah," he said instead, in an attempt at sounding casual. Pressing the phone to his ear, he crossed the room and almost tripped over a stranded box, hurting his toes on the way. "That was three days ago," he pointed out.

"Three days seem like a good time to wait before calling a guy, right?"

When the phone call was over and Jeno sat back on the floor, feeling rather shocked by the fact that he had just been asked out on a date, Chenle appeared in the doorframe, a box of ice cream in his one hand, the other holding a spoon.

Jeno sent him a questioning look. "Did you give this guy my phone number?" he asked.

Shrugging his shoulders, Chenle took the spoon out of his mouth. "I didn't think he would actually call you."

Friday evening, Jeno shows up at Chenle's door with two bottles of wine and two bottles of beer, clinking against each other in a plastic bag. His glasses are fogged up and clothes damp from the sudden downpour outside, strands of his black hair glued to his wet forehead, partially obscuring his vision. When the door opens, most likely he can't see the shit-eating grin that shows up on Chenle's face.

"Looks like someone's planning to get totally wasted tonight," Chenle sing-songs, by means of greeting.

Jeno makes a sound of discontent, somewhere deep in his throat. He takes off his glasses and squints his already narrow eyes, scanning Chenle's expression. "I'm not getting wasted," he disagrees. "It's called _pleasant evening with my best friend_."

Chenle snorts. "Pleasant evenings maybe you spend with your boyfriend. With me, you always get so drunk you puke into my toilet and then call Jaemin begging him to come pick you up. But sure." He shrugs and opens the door to let Jeno in. The man leaves a trail of wet footsteps on the floorboards. "I was actually expecting you," Chenle adds, once the door is closed.

Putting the bottles on a dresser and proceeding to take his coat off, Jeno raises an eyebrow. "You were?"

Chenle's already on his way to get the glasses. His drinking nights with Jeno follow the same pattern and he knows that in order for the two of them to start a serious conversation and get to the nitty-gritty, Jeno needs to be buzzed. "You seemed on edge recently so I knew it was a matter of time before you would come seek my advice," he says, making it sound like a joke, even though they both know that it's true. "Go get changed. You look like a wet dog."

And so even though the first hour of their meeting, Jeno acts like there's nothing he wants to talk about, no problems in his personal life which he could need Chenle to be the judge of, drinking in silence and vehemently shaking his head at every question, once the alcohol kicks in, his tongue gets loose.

"I don't think money is really the problem for you two," Chenle says once Jeno's stream of consciousness comes to its official end. The man is now lying flat on Chenle's sofa, like a patient on the psychologist's couch, watching Chenle pour the last drops of their second prosecco into his glass.

"It _is_ about money," he insists. "It's because of money that my mother keeps calling us and driving Jaemin nuts," he states, even though there isn't a great deal of confidence left in his voice. Having drunk a whole bottle of prosecco, he sounds more like a deflated balloon, which is exactly the type of Jeno Chenle likes talking to the most.

Chenle shakes his head. "That's not what I said." He picks up his glass and points at Jeno's, wordlessly urging him to keep drinking. Like an obedient child, Jeno props himself on his elbow and follows the order. "Is money an issue for her? Sure. Is it the issue for the two of you? I don't think so." Jeno raises his eyebrows, not understanding where Chenle's going with his point. "When Jaemin worked at the restaurant, she complained about that too, didn't she?"

"Well, it was a bit different--"

Chenle makes a loud clicking sound in his mouth, cutting Jeno short. "That's just your mother. She doesn't like anything and anybody." Glass in his hand, prosecco swinging against its edge, Chenle leans towards Jeno. "Let's not talk about your mother. Let's talk about you."

Jeno's eyes grow bigger and he seems innocently surprised. "About me?"

"About you," Chenle repeats. Jeno remains frozen to the sofa, looking up at Chenle's face with so much attention as if he was reading off of his lips. "I think the whole problem the two of you are having right now is that Jaemin started working with a bunch of super hot dudes in thongs and you're jealous as fuck."

Called out by his friend in such a blatant manner, Jeno gets red in the face. "Admittedly, I didn't know that _this_ is what he meant by fashion photography."

Chenle ignores his words. "Every time Jaemin leaves to work, all you can think about is the big-dicked hottie he's going to spend the next couple of hours with. Just the two of them. In the entire studio." When Jeno groans, his head dropping on the sofa and prosecco spilling out of his glass, Chenle bursts into laughter. "See?" Pause. "Why don't you just talk to him about it?"

"So he thinks that I'm the most pathetic guy on the planet? No thanks."

Chenle nods his head, suddenly absent-minded. He opens his beer, takes a sip, then reaches for the last cold chicken nugget left on the plate. "Have you guys ever thought about opening your relationship?" he asks then, out of thin air.

Jeno raises his eyebrows so high up his forehead that his glasses stir at the tip of his nose. "Chenle. You're drunk."

"Hey. Just because he doesn't tell you that, it doesn't mean he doesn't want it."

It takes a moment for Jeno to process Chenle's words. "When Jaemin wants something, he says so. That's the whole point."

"What about the studio?" Chenle catches the way Jeno quickly opens his mouth but fails to say anything. "He wanted it but he didn't tell you for like two years."

"That's... an exception," Jeno says at last. He sits up, as if the idea suddenly sobered him up. "Since when are you my private relationship counsellor?"

"Zhong Chenle, at your service." Smiling, Chenle takes another sip of his beer, then motions towards Jeno's bottle to make him drink too. This time, Jeno doesn't react. "All I'm saying is, if you're so afraid that he wants to bang his models, maybe just be the one to suggest it first. Be in charge of it."

Jeno's face breaks into a wince. "Do you even know how dumb this sounds?"

At the beginning of their relationship, Jaemin worked at a Chinese restaurant two blocks from their apartment, and co-renting a photography studio started off as an idea he casually dropped during one of their evening dates. They were sitting on their balcony, eating the takeaway Jaemin brought from his last shift, and it was the red wine that prompted his confession, leaving Jeno surprised for the rest of the night.

When he referred to it in the morning, Jaemin reacted with annoyance.

"I was just joking," he said, walking into the kitchen with their empty wine glasses, staggering a litte and possibly regretting going to sleep tipsy. Jeno followed him right behind.

"It didn't sound like a joke to me," he disagreed. "You've always wanted to do photography, haven't you?"

Jaemin put the glasses into the sink, then turned towards Jeno. "I don't think you understand what my renting a studio really implies," he told him, like he was scolding a child for expressing troublesome views. Jeno raised his eyebrows. "This is a lot of money. Studio rent, our apartment rent, all the other bills." Just hearing himself enumerate all the expenses made Jaemin grow more anxious and he quickly broke their eye contact. A quiver of what may have been embarrassment shot across his handsome morning face and the one thing Jeno realized in that moment was, Jaemin had been thinking about it. He had been considering the possibility of starting his photography career but had never brought it up to Jeno.

When Jaemin pushed himself off the sink, Jeno reached with his arms to embrace him in a hug, only Jaemin didn't allow for it to happen, quickly moving towards the fridge. It was ten in the morning and Jaemin was walking barefoot on the kitchen floor tiles, dressed only in a pair of sweatpants, the mess of his honey coloured hair betraying the pose he slept the night in, strands poking out in one direction.

"I've just said that it's fine," Jeno insisted. He watched Jaemin begin to bustle around, acting like their conversation had just been terminated. Sometimes Jaemin could be stubborn like that. "You know we have the savings."

Contrary to Jeno's peaceful intentions, the word _savings_ seemed to trigger something in Jaemin. He brought a carton of orange juice out of the fridge and closed it with a bit too much force, before turning to Jeno with an accusatory stare. "When you say _we_ , what you really mean is _you_. _You_ have the savings."

"And I want to spend them on your studio rent. Where is the problem?"

"I can't believe you're even asking me this."

Jeno crossed his arms on his chest, sleeveless t-shirt stretching on his back. "And I can't believe you've been hiding this from me."

The sudden hurt in Jeno's voice made Jaemin's eyes widen in surprise. He was clearly not expecting Jeno to catch up on his little secret and, even more importantly, to be so direct about it. Truth be told, Jeno had never been much of a confrontational type and most of their relationship up until then, he tended to quickly agree with Jaemin just for the sake of avoiding an argument. This time, however, he wasn't going to let go. He was ready to fight.

Jaemin must have realized that because his posture changed in a split second, just like his facial expression. His shoulders drooped and he weakly leaned against the kitchen unit, as if in sudden need of something to support his body weight. The frown was now gone too, replaced by what looked like a pained wince, and he hesitated, biting his lower lip, before looking Jeno in the eyes. "You really want me to try?"

Friday evening, sitting at the bar with the rest of his software team laughing loudly somewhere behind his back, Jeno is so deep in his thoughts that he doesn't notice when the new guy shows up and takes a seat on the empty bar stool beside him.

"You don't mind?" he asks, and Jeno remembers his name is Mark, just because it's not Korean. He joined the company about two weeks ago and in their open office he sits two desks away from Jeno's.

Jeno makes a vague move with the glass of tonic in his hand. "No. Of course not."

The bar is never a crowded place and it seems like the only regular customers coming here in large numbers are Jeno's co-workers, all the freaks hung up on changing the future of retail by means of sensor-guided robot manipulators.

Mark smiles, a bit awkwardly. He orders a glass of some sparkly sweet drink off the menu. "These guys seem to know each other very well. I'm almost having high school flashbacks," he jokes, then quickly explains himself, "I was a wall-flower. I guess it takes me some time to warm up to people."

Jeno nods his head. "That happens."

"And you? Why are you sitting here alone?"

Jeno opens his mouth, but then hesitates and closes it. He doesn't want to bring Jaemin up, at least not immediately, and for a moment he's fighting with himself to make the decision, feeling some sudden need for independence. But then again, there's no point keeping it for later. "I usually come to these with my boyfriend," he reveals.

Mark makes a surprised face but it lasts only for a brief moment, quickly replaced by a look of curiosity. "So why didn't he come here tonight?"

Jeno sighs. "He's at work."

"Friday, eight pm?"

"Freelance photographer."

Hearing that, Mark's big eyes light up. "When I was in college, I wanted to do photography too."

"Oh really?" Somehow this piece of information sends a wave of irritation through Jeno's body. He thinks about Jaemin, then about his mother, and then a bunch of old emotions resurface from the bottom of his mind, causing him to frown. "You too wanted to go around photographing handsome guys? I mean that's what my boyfriend does. He always says he has some super creative projects but all he ends up doing is photographing naked ass models." Sipping his sparkly drink, Mark doesn't cut in and this lack of immediate reaction on his side, of judgment and scolding, so unlike Jaemin, abashes Jeno. He quickly backtracks. "I'm sorry. I think I'm a bit drunk." Mark shrugs his shoulders, no problem. There's a pause and then Jeno clears his throat. He asks, "So why didn't you decide to follow on this hobby?

"You know. Usual stuff. I didn't think I could make a living out of it. But also I wasn't, like, super passionate about it to begin with, so no big deal." Mark stays silent for a while. "Cool that your boyfriend has some regular clients."

Jeno looks away. He stirs his tonic, making the melting cubes of ice rattle in his glass. "Well, the income remains unpredictable."

Mark doesn't seem bothered by Jeno's abrasive tone, perhaps sensing that there are things he doesn't know about and which Jeno is unlikely to share with a stranger. "Good that he has you then," he comments.

And that, it makes something heat up in Jeno's chest. Overwhelmed by a sudden sense of pride and affection, he stirs in his stool, his body searching for Jaemin on its own accord, eyes trying to localize the man in space but failing. Jaemin's not at the bar.

"For how long have you guys been together?" Mark asks.

Jeno furrows his eyebrows. "Four years," he replies and then feels strangely surprised by that number.

Mark laughs. "That's like ten years in gay years, right?" he jokes, and Jeno laughs too. "Let me guess. You already have a cat at this point."

Coming back from the studio on Saturday, the last thing Jaemin expects to see is Jeno standing in the hall of their apartment with a whole bouquet of roses gathered together with a bow, leaning in to kiss Jaemin on the lips the very moment he crosses the threshold.

"Wow," is the first thing Jaemin manages to say when their lips part. The bouquet now in his hands, with a bunch of fake ladybugs and butterflies glued to the leaves, he takes a step back and looks Jeno in the face, his eyebrows furrowing in suspicion. "Did I just miss our anniversary?" he asks.

Jeno snorts in response. "I can be romantic without an occasion," he says, pretending to sound hurt, only Jaemin knows it for a fact that he's amused. Jeno has never been much of a good actor, all of his emotions easily readable on his face and audible in his voice.

Jaemin closes the door and they kiss again. Then, with their faces so close that one inhales the air that the other breathes out, Jaemin chuckles and starts whispering against Jeno's lips. "So you mean to say you were walking by a florist's and these made you think of me?"

Jaemin's tone is ironic and Jeno chuckles as well. "Precisely what happened."

"You're so romantic, huh?"

Jeno's fingers move up Jaemin's neck, stroking it gingerly, then slide into Jaemin's hair and rake through it, feeling how soft it is to the touch despite being bleached so often. Jaemin hums in pleasure. "In all seriousness," Jeno whispers then, clearing his throat and trying to prevent his voice from cracking, "I just wanted to remind you that, you know, I love you."

When they kiss again, Jeno can feel Jaemin's smile against his lips. "I know, honey. I know that."

Later in the evening, after the romantic dinner which didn't taste even half as good as Jeno was intending for it to, they find themselves in their bedroom, their roles slightly reversed. This time, it's Jeno who's lying flat on the bed, his wrists pinned on either side of his head by Jaemin's impressively strong hands, his mouth shut by Jaemin's insistent kisses.

He knows that sometimes Jaemin likes doing it this way, being in full control over the act, choosing the pace and choreographing their moves to the detail. And Jeno enjoys that just as much as he likes being in charge himself. With Jaemin holding him down, Jeno feels his body relax, then go limp. His eyes close on their own accord and he finds himself focusing all of his senses exclusively on Jaemin's lips and tongue, which now leave Jeno's mouth and proceed to stamp a series of wet kisses down his neck, collar bone and cleavage, occasionally sucking a hickey into his skin, marking him possessively for others to see.

When Jaemin starts undressing himself, he's still straddling Jeno's hips and Jeno doesn't move to help him, instead remaining motionless on the bed, keeping the exact pose Jaemin has put him in and patiently appreciating the view from below, his eyes darkening, not leaving Jaemin's body for a second.

Obviously, Jaemin enjoys the attention. He unbuttons his shirt, theatrically drops it on the bed, then unbuckles his pants and unzips his fly, all of his moves sensual, calculated with the intention of receiving the most enthusiastic response, like a performer confident of his skills. Only once every piece of clothing is off of his body and he's sitting on top of Jeno naked, vulnerable but proud, he leans in and kisses Jeno on the mouth. Experimentally rolling his hips against Jeno's fully dressed crotch, he forces a moan out of Jeno's throat, which doesn't manage to leave past his lips, only vibrating in Jaemin's mouth.

"You know how sexy you are like this?" Jaemin asks, teasing Jeno but at the same time making it sound like an expression of genuine awe, and Jeno can barely think straight, last moment forcefully stopping himself from releasing an embarrassingly loud noise. When Jaemin leans in to nudge Jeno's cheek with his nose, Jeno's breath hitches and his head stirs, automatically trying to prolong the touch.

Jaemin seems to notice that as he sits up and smiles at Jeno. His body, technically smaller than Jeno's and usually appearing scrawny and fragile, now, when admired from below, it looks rough at the edges, betraying a great amount of power. Muscles show up on Jaemin's arms and tendons pop out as he removes Jeno's pants in just a few quick moves, leaving only his t-shirt on, as if for the sake of time efficiency. His preparation barely takes a minute and next thing Jeno knows, the man sinks on his cock, enveloping him in his slick warmth.

Some time later, the same night, Jaemin's lying on Jeno's torso, feeling too weak to move, his come still hot and wet between their bodies. That's when Jeno feels a sudden urge to speak.

"Jaemin," he says, making the man stir, then tilt his neck just enough to look up into Jeno's eyes. Beads of sweat shine on Jaemin's forehead and neck, his cheeks are still flushed up, his breathing shallow, and the view is so breath-taking that Jeno temporarily loses his ability to speak.

Just moments ago, Jaemin was desperately chasing his orgasm, his back arched, stomach hollowing and hands pressed on both sides of Jeno's ankles to support the weight of his quickly moving body. He had his eyes shut tight, he was panting and calling Jeno's name until it no longer resembled human speech, turning into a long string of inarticulate moans. But now, he looks serene and calm.

Jeno has to clear his throat. "Have you ever thought about sleeping with other men?"

Jaemin's reaction isn't exactly what he expected.

Still high on his orgasm, Jaemin breaks into a sudden fit of giggles, his head moving on Jeno's chest, hot breath tickling Jeno's skin. Once the laughter subsides, he looks at Jeno and in a highly amused tone asks, "You mean like, when I see a hot guy on the street and think to myself, damn, I wish I could fuck him?"

Jeno swallows. "That's what I mean."

"Then yes." Jaemin narrows his eyes, his stare growing playfully suspicious. "What about you?"

"Me?"

"I answered. Now it's your turn." He raises his one hand and puts it on Jeno's chest, stroking his muscles and brushing over his nipple. Jeno hisses.

"I don't know," he replies, suddenly abashed. "Maybe."

Jaemin drops his gaze, like a sudden realization has just hit him in the head and he needs a moment to fully absorb it. Humming, he bites his lower lip. "Do you... have someone in mind then?"

Jeno frowns, not understanding. His one hand, which has been resting on Jaemin's back until now, holding the man to Jeno's chest, he takes it away. "Someone in mind?"

Jaemin still has a carefree, flirtatious expression on his face. He moves his fingers like they are a pair of legs stepping up Jeno's naked body. "Someone special."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

The pair of legs turns back into a hand. Jaemin props it on the bed and pushes himself up, all the lost energy now seemingly back in his body. "You're talking about setting up a threesome, right?"

"What?"

Jaemin looks confused. "You've asked about other men so I thought--"

"I'm talking about opening our relationship." Jeno pauses and checks for Jaemin's reaction. There's nothing but surprise to be seen, stretching the man's facial features and suddenly causing their bodies to feel a few degrees colder. Or so it seems to Jeno.

"Oh," Jaemin replies.


	2. Chapter 2

"You really don't have to go there," Jaemin told him, opening their shared closet and fishing out a shirt which Jeno knew to be one of his favourites, shiny black with white stitches. It was tight fitting and when tucked into pants made Jaemin's waist look exceptionally petite. "It's just a small exhibition. A couple of photos and a bunch of photography people. You'll get bored anyway."

Jeno watched him throw the shirt onto their double bed, then another one, iridescent green, with a very low neckline which revealed the whole length of Jaemin's protruding collar bones. If he bowed in it, one could have a peek at his entire chest.

Standing at the entrance to their bedroom, with one arm leaning against the doorframe, Jeno furrowed his eyebrows. The clothing choices made it clear that the exhibition was a big deal to his boyfriend. Up until now, during these two years of their relationship, Jaemin never spoke much about photography, a hobby that he didn't seem to have enough time for and which he rarely brought up in conversations, shyly waving his hand away and discouraging Jeno from asking further questions. Now this whole exhibition, organized by a friend of Jaemin's which Jeno had never been introduced to, it seemed like an opportunity. A special chance for Jeno to get more familiar with his boyfriend's interests.

"Of course I want to go there with you," he repeated, with more conviction in his voice. He came closer, one finger pointing at the shirts. "Just tell me, are you planning to divert everyone's attention away from the photographs?"

Jaemin laughed at that, blissfully. "Want me to dress you up too? We can both _divert the attention_."

Contrary to his plans, most of the exhibition Jeno spent alone, aimlessly wandering around the studio while trying to catch the waiter and get himself more champagne, barely looking at the large scale photographs hanging on the walls, which portrayed various body parts in extreme close ups, splotched with paint or tied with coloured ropes, digging into the skin of faceless models at uncomfortable angles. Jaemin must have been right assuming Jeno wouldn't find that very interesting.

Almost as soon as they walked inside, Jaemin got caught up in a conversation with someone Jeno had never seen before nor heard about, but who appeared to be quite closely acquainted with him. One conversation quickly bounced into another, then more people arrived, creating a circle of handsome men with champagne glasses, all directing their eyes at Jaemin, like he was the one organizing the exhibition, asking Jaemin professional and personal questions alike, how he'd been doing and who was the man accompanying him. The entire time, Jaemin kept the charming little smile on his face, visibly preening at every compliment and meaningfully draping his arm around Jeno's waist. Someone shook Jeno's hand, then someone else patted him on the back, a little too strong, or maybe for a bit too long, and Jeno feigned pleasant laughter one last time before deciding he had enough of socializing.

When he departed, Jaemin continued ricocheting from one interlocutor to another, much like a tennis ball, peals of laughter breaking every couple of seconds, echoing behind Jeno's back.

It lasted for an hour and a half. Jeno knew that because he kept checking the time on his wrist watch.

When Jaemin finally came back to him, he stopped behind Jeno's back, wrapping his arms around Jeno's stomach and resting his chin on Jeno's shoulder. They were standing in front of what appeared to be red ribbons tightly squeezing someone's thigh in a zoom in, pubic hair and a little bit of penis noticeable in the corner of the photograph. "I've told you," Jaemin said.

In response, Jeno raised his empty glass of champagne. "Free alcohol. I'd say it was worth coming."

Jaemin chuckled fondly, appreciating Jeno's attempt at optimism. His hot breath vibrated against Jeno's neck and his arms tightened around Jeno's belly, holding him closer. "So how you like the exhibition?" he asked then, and Jeno knew by the tone of his voice that it was a rhetorical question, more like a joke than an initiation of a genuine discussion. Jeno wasn't expected to be fascinated by the art in front of their eyes. Whatever art that was.

"Very interesting," he responded, in a voice of someone pretending to be well educated on the subject. He motioned with his glass, pointing at the thigh in front of them, then towards the photograph right next to it, even more explicit. "The penis shots must be my favourite," he remarked, earning himself a chuckle and a slap on his chest.

"Of course they are." Jaemin giggled, then became serious again. "They are about freedom of sexual expression."

"I can see that."

"And aesthetics of naked human body." Jeno stretched his neck to have a good look at Jaemin's face, searching for that sparkle in the man's eyes which he knew was always there whenever Jaemin spoke about something he felt passionate about. Barely had Jaemin started, though, someone appeared beside them, cutting his words short.

It was another handsome man in an artistically patterned, colourful suit, only this time the atmosphere following his arrival felt different. Jeno could sense it right away, his attention awakened. Jaemin took his hands away and straightened his back.

"Hey. Jaemin." The man looked Jaemin up and down, and Jaemin did the same in return. "Long time no see. How's things with you?"

They shook their hands, then Jaemin took a step aside, as if to give the man a better view of Jeno. "Things are great. Good to see you." He lifted one hand and placed it on Jeno's shoulder. "That's Jeno. My boyfriend."

They shook their hands as well, and only when Jeno made it clear with his stare that he expected an introduction too, the man spoke up again. "Jaehyun. I'm Jaemin's ex."

And maybe, just maybe, that piece of information took Jeno so off-guard that it knocked the air out of his lungs.

Jaemin didn't seem to notice. Unbothered by how Jeno stirred under his hand, he kept his charming smile plastered on his lips, displaying the whole set of his perfectly white teeth, like straight out of a toothpaste commercial. He had chosen the tight-fitting black shirt. It stretched on his chest as he leaned towards Jeno, emphasizing his minuscule waist.

"Jaehyun works at a model agency," he explained to Jeno, glancing at him before looking back at Jaehyun. "Is that correct?"

Jaehyun nodded, chuckling. "I've always told Jaemin that he should have become a model himself."

Jaemin faked a tired sigh, which couldn't take away from his flattered expression. "You know I've always preferred being on the other side of the camera."

Jaehyun's face was beaming with a playful smile. "But if you ever change your mind," he said, "you know that my agency will be waiting." They stared at each other for a while, with clear amusement, and then, after a pause, Jaehyun returned his attention to Jeno. "So what do you do?"

Jeno looked at Jaemin, who said nothing, then at Jaehyun. "Software engineering."

Later that night, they were both standing before their bathroom sink, dressed in their pyjamas, or in Jaemin's case, a random combination of Jeno's old t-shirt and his own worn-out sweats. Jeno moistened his toothbrush, left the water running for Jaemin to wash his face, then Jaemin left the water running for Jeno to rinse his mouth, all of that automatic, with no words needed. Their usual toilette.

The only difference was that tonight Jeno hadn't spoken to Jaemin the whole way home and until now, not a word unless in response to Jaemin's question. Jaemin assumed that it must have had to do with the amount of champagne Jeno, unsupervised, had drunk at the exhibition, combined with the unexpected confrontation with Jaehyun. He decided to address that.

"So," he started in a casual tone, patting the essence onto his clean skin. "Do you want to talk about something?"

Jeno rinsed his face, then turned off the water and pressed both of his hands against the sink. The veins on his arms popped visible, which Jaemin enjoyed seeing, despite the unfortunate circumstances. "Something like what?" Jeno asked, rather gruffly.

So Jaemin was right.

"You were silent the whole way home," he continued just as casually, now moving onto the night time cream. "I assumed you had a reason." There was a hint of mockery in Jaemin's voice, not fully intended.

Jeno furrowed his eyebrows, which Jaemin watched in their bathroom mirror. "Your ex," Jeno said. "Jaehyun. Seriously?"

Jaemin put the cream down, closing it with the lid. He looked Jeno in the eyes and said, "I'm sorry that Jaehyun happened to be present at the exhibition. I should have specifically checked if he was on the guest list prior to inviting you."

In a split second, Jeno's eyes grew completely black, narrowing into two slits. "You didn't just say that." The tone of his voice was full of hurt pride. His face darkened and jaw tightened, just like his grip on the sink, and Jaemin knew that he shouldn't react like this, shouldn't really feel that way, but the view sent a wave of strange excitement through his body, hitting him full on.

Jeno was _jealous_. He was so jealous it made him angry.

Jaemin turned towards the mirror, checking the cream on his face. For a moment, his heart pounded in his chest, but his voice didn't betray that. "God. Why are you making such a big deal out of it?"

"Then why didn't you ever mention him to me?"

"Because he's nobody important. Duh?"

Jeno inhaled a deep breath, looking away from Jaemin. "When we talked about our previous relationships, you've said you've never been in one," he reminded him, referring to an old conversation of theirs.

Jaemin's excitement was gone, drained out of his body in merely a second. "Because I haven't."

"So what about your _Jaemin's so handsome he should be a model_ ex-boyfriend?" Probably realizing how childish the sentence must have sounded, Jeno's face cringed. His ears were completely red by now. "I've told you everything about Donghyuk," he added, sounding miserable.

Jaemin raised his eyebrows. "You and Donghyuk were together for like two years. I slept with Jaehyun for a couple of months when I couldn't be bothered to fix myself a hook-up. That's two different things." He crossed his arms. "I don't even know why he called himself my ex."

There came a pause, during which Jeno avoided looking Jaemin in the eye. His arms were crossed on his chest, in a rather defensive stance, more like he was shielding himself from danger, his one hand rubbing his neck and picking on his skin. The expression on his face showed thoughts being processed at a high speed, until finally he opened his mouth and said, "Okay. I'm sorry." He looked at Jaemin, dropped his eyes, then looked at him again. "I'm just upset that you haven't told me about this guy, alright?"

With Jeno's voice now turning apologetic, Jaemin softened as well. "Fine. I'm sorry too. Maybe I should have," he conceded. Resting his bottom against the sink, he hunched his back a little, eyes on Jeno. "So what do you want to know?"

There was a thing Jeno knew about Jaemin which didn't get a proper introduction.

Everyone knew about that who hung out with him on the weekends, in his favourite club which was crowded and with flashing lights, including Chenle and a couple other mutual friends of theirs. When Jaemin got properly drunk and an opportunity presented itself, usually in the form of a handsome young man ogling him from a short distance of the dancefloor, Jaemin was eager to kiss with strangers.

He didn't have to speak with them prior to the kiss, no need for verbal encouragement, really. If someone happened to be at the reach of Jaemin's hand and looked interested enough, Jaemin wouldn't miss the change to lock his arms around the stranger's neck and start french kissing him. In front of everybody.

Jaemin liked to refer to these as _brief laps of_ _judgement_ _that didn't hurt anyone_ as well as _a little bit of fun_ , after which words he would look at Jeno and make the same facial expression as usual. It said, why are you taking it so seriously?

Sitting at their table, all of their friends conveniently gone to the bar, Jeno would initiate what felt more like a parental scolding than a genuine discussion between two grown-up partners. Jaemin would look rather embarrassed, contrary to his previous demeanour, his eyes downcast onto the table and hands fidgeting with the napkin holder. Theoretically, he was just as drunk as minutes ago, not enough time having passed since the moment Jeno's hand clasped his arm and abruptly finished the tongue sucking session, but still, Jeno's presence seemed to sober him up a little.

With Jeno staring at him from the other side of the table, Jaemin appeared to have regained some of his sense of shame, which he must have lost on his way through the crowded dance floor.

"So it happened again," Jaemin would say, sighing.

What Jaemin never told Jeno and wouldn't want for him to realize was that the spontaneous kissing with strangers was never prompted by Jeno's absence by Jaemin's side. Quite the contrary. It was the very awareness that Jeno was somewhere close, in the same club, about to emerge from the crowd, which made the kissing this easy. No matter whose tongue Jaemin would start sucking into his mouth, it was never intended to last long or lead to anything bigger. Each time Jaemin found himself groped by a stranger's hands, held in his arms, pressed to his chest, part of his mind always stayed aware of Jeno's quick arrival. And that's what sent shivers down Jaemin's back. What heated up his body.

That's what made the whole thing exciting.

He wouldn't be able to do it had he not drunk enough alcohol, it came without saying, and there was always a sense of regret in him whenever he had to face Jeno's hurt expression afterwards, but for a brief moment, feeling a stranger's body under his fingertips, so differently shaped than Jeno's, and seeing Jeno in the corner of his eye, seeing Jeno see it unfold, it made for the most arousing memories Jaemin had.

And Jeno sure as hell wasn't supposed to know that.

"Can we please not make such a big deal out of it?" he asked, once Jeno's scolding was over.

Jeno sighed and looked to the side, towards the bar where Chenle and Yeji had departed after witnessing the scene. It wasn't their first time anyway.

Jaemin put the napkin holder down, then reached with his hand across the table to where Jeno's hands were lying. He took one, cupped it and rubbed it with his thumb. In his head, he was already planning things for later, for when they get back home. Because what else made kissing strangers an exciting endeavour was the possibility of reconciliatory sex.

"I think Jeno wants us to open our relationship."

Up until now, Jaemin has been sitting in silence, his body motionless in the chair, face betraying intensive thinking. The sudden confession, made out of thin air, clearly catches Yeji off-guard. She takes her eyes off the cooker and looks at the man over her shoulder, her hair, twisted into four braids, jumping with the motion. "What?"

When their eyes meet, Yeji can't decide what emotions there are on Jaemin's face. It must be a whole bunch of them, stifled under a mask of pensiveness and caution. "I know it sounds weird but that's what he's told me."

"Jeno's told _you_?"

Jaemin shrugs. He knows that it sounds hard to believe and it is, even to him. The more time passes from their conversation, the more it feels like a fever dream. Like Jaemin just made it up.

Yeji pauses, thinking. "And what did you say?"

"Well, nothing, really." Jaemin moves in his chair, his hands slowly reaching for his glass of coffee, with which he proceeds to absent-mindedly play. "We didn't speak about it in detail. He just, you know, dropped it there."

"He casually mentioned that he wants to sleep with other men?"

Jaemin gives it a moment of consideration. "I guess that's what he meant?" He pauses, then decides to joke about it. "My blowjobs no longer seem to impress him, huh?"

Yeji smiles, but carefully.

It's been a couple of days now and neither he nor Jeno has tried to come back to the subject, just leaving it there, present but barely, urgent but also not at all. What Jaemin found most surprising about Jeno's proposition was how out of blue it came, so out of Jeno's character. It wasn't about what Jeno was proposing as much as it was about Jaemin _not expecting it_. You date someone for four years, you think you know them to the detail, and then boom, something like this happens. Jaemin feels almost irritated by his own unpreparedness.

"Are you going to say yes?" Yeji's voice snaps him out of his thoughts. "Lots of couples do that, you know? If you set things up properly, seems like it could work." Surprised by where his friend leads their conversation, Jaemin doesn't respond immediately and it prompts her to keep talking. "I mean, maybe that's what you've really been in need of lately."

He doesn't understand at first, furrowing his eyebrows and looking at Yeji with the expectancy of further explanation. And then it hits him. "You think we've been having issues?"

Part of what made Jaemin's job the great experience that it was, right next to having the opportunity of regularly viewing a whole lot of handsome men, which Jaemin wouldn't ever complain about, was just how unproblematic working with them was. In a nutshell, Jaemin's job meant a couple of hours spent capturing the beauty of human body in various stages of nakedness, interluded by pleasant conversations. A little bit of joking, some personal anecdotes, a cup of coffee after a finished photoshoot. And even when Jaemin had to reject an offer of wild sex in the studio, no, not even a quick handjob, sorry, I have a boyfriend, the models always took it well and didn't make much fuss.

"That's a pity," is all the model says, a muscled type, currently posing without a shirt on. His stringy brown hair is covering one of his eyes, giving him a rather mysterious air. He sends Jaemin one last gaze, as if to make sure Jaemin won't change his mind about the proposition, before returning to work like nothing happened. With a delay, already hidden behind his camera, Jaemin smiles to himself, secretly enjoying the flattery.

The studio's well equipped too. Next to the green screens, c-stands, softboxes and strobe lights, the most useful item for Jaemin personally is the coffee machine located in a small kitchen area, separated by a door from the main room. Drinking coffee is exactly the thing that occupies Jaemin's mind as he's preparing the set for the last couple of photos of the evening, almost able to taste it on the tip of his tongue.

The man's toned chest shines in the strobe lights. He has a pair of ripped blue jeans on, and the muscles in his arms tense as he poses, his knees wide and ankles crossed, one arm flung over the back of the chair. He's ready for the flashes to come and Jaemin's ready to press the shutter, but then the door to the studio opens. There is a certain quality to the foot steps, maybe the weight of the shoes combined with a specific kind of gait, that allows Jaemin to quickly identify the intruder.

Seeing how Jaemin's attention got distracted, the model drops his pose as well, looking at the door instead of the camera, all the raw sex gone from his facial expression, replaced by an almost childish curiosity.

Jaemin sighs.

"That's him?" the model asks then. He looks from Jaemin to Jeno, now approaching them from a distance, dressed in a suit, a briefcase on his arm, then back again. "The boyfriend?"

Excusing the unexpected visit, Jaemin takes Jeno to the kitchen area, barely giving him any time to look at the half-naked model. He closes the door and without missing a beat, begins preparing his long awaited coffee, just like he planned.

"You want some?" he asks, only when he feels Jeno's expectant stare on his back.

Jeno declines. He comes to one of the kitchen units, crossing his arms on his chest and making the black suit stretch on his shoulders.

"Sorry about-- you know," Jaemin makes a vague move with his hand, "the unwelcome nudity. I didn't know you were coming." He pours grinded coffee into the paper filter, then places it in the machine. A steady buzz fills the room, then a vague cloud of steam plumes out into the air, announcing the soon-to-be ready drink. Jaemin can't wait to have it in his mouth.

"You don't seem very glad to see me."

Jaemin shakes his head. "It's not about that. I just..." He places one hand on the machine, then looks Jeno in the eye. "You could have texted me, you know?"

"It was supposed to be a surprise."

Jaemin lets out a half-suppressed snicker, a sign of annoyance than anything else. "Jeno. I'm at work."

"Yeah, I know. I've seen your model. Nice muscles."

Jaemin can't decide if Jeno's words are intended to sound playful, condescending or mean, or a combination of all three. He studies Jeno's face looking for clues. "Did you come here to supervise me?" he decides to ask, making Jeno stir.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You tell me." The coffee stops leaking out of the machine and so Jaemin takes the mug into his hands, holding it by the handle. The drink is still too hot to dip his lips into. "What time is it?" He steals a glance at the wall clock. "Six? Quarter to? You've just finished work and you're coming here-- for what?"

Jeno makes the facial expression which he always does when they argue and he doesn't get what's Jaemin's point. He seems lost. "Maybe I've just wanted to see if you're having fun. How's your day and all that..."

One hand holding the mug, the other slipped into the pocket of his jeans, Jaemin looks at Jeno interrogatively. "You think he's my type?"

To Jaemin's ears, his words are a clear accusation of mistrust directed at Jeno. These past two weeks, ever since their conversation about opening their relationship, they haven't been as sexually active as usual, which was quite a change.

But Jeno, he seems to think about none of that. Rather than growing serious, a playful smile appears on his pair of thin lips, and he leans towards Jaemin, one hand propped against the kitchen unit. "Maybe he's _my_ type?"

There's a moment of disbelief, in which Jaemin stares at his boyfriend unsure of whether he's heard him right. The tone of Jeno's voice, so abruptly changed and confusingly unfitting for the situation, sounds more like a mischievous flirtation than a proper response to Jaemin's question, and none of that makes sense.

"What?" he asks.

Now Jeno frowns too, very briefly, clearly confused by Jaemin's reaction.

Same mistake repeated twice.

Jaemin doesn't address the issue right after it happens, just like he hasn't addressed Jeno's out-of-the-blue proposition to open their relationship, letting it become a vague memory, more and more unbelievable as the time goes by.

He finishes the photoshoot, Jeno waits for him in the car and then they drive home, no questions asked. Did Jeno mean to make Jaemin jealous, just as he feels? Did he genuinely find the stranger attractive and wanted to let Jaemin know about it? Did his comment carry any other sub-text? Did he expect a different reaction from Jaemin?

Jaemin decides that none of this needs to be known. Coffee in his hand, poured over to a plastic container, he keeps his eyes on the road, only out of the corner of his eye watching Jeno drive. In silence.

It just all seems too strange to address. It's as if Jeno malfunctioned, briefly and inexplicably, twice in a row, and since it wasn't _the real Jeno_ , not his usual self, the matter could easily be put aside. They could just both let it slide and act like it didn't happen, wiping it out of their memory. Because Jaemin doesn't really know how to feel about his boyfriend expressing sexual interest in Jaemin's model.

"Did my mother call you?" Jeno asks then, cutting through Jaemin's stream of thoughts.

There is a pause in which Jaemin absorbs the question. "No," he says at last, and the reply sounds much too short for the long time that it took Jaemin to form it.

"Okay, good."

"Was she going to?"

A wince briefly brushes over Jeno's features. Then his face comes back to neutral. "No. I hope not," he responds, a hint of laughter in his voice. Hands on the steering wheel, he can't look at Jaemin, which is the exact way Jaemin wants for this conversation to stay. "You're just... acting weird."

Jaemin's eyebrows shoot up his forehead. _He_ is the one acting weird.

When they arrive home, Jaemin still expects Jeno to take notice of the unusual atmosphere between them. He expects Jeno to explain his behaviour, maybe initiate a longer conversation. Because Jaemin, there is something in him, tangible like a lump in his throat, that prevents him to speaking. A sort of unfamiliar bodily sensation under the influence of which he doesn't know how to act and which renders him silent almost the entire evening, only stealing wary glances at Jeno, to which the man reacts with a smile, the meek one, with his eyes turning into slits.

Other than that, Jeno doesn't do or say much either, as if in accordance with Jaemin's actions. Every time he catches Jaemin look at him, he smiles, then returns his gaze back to his phone, typing on the keyboard. Jaemin wonders who he's having a conversation with but doesn't find it in him to ask.

Jeno smiles, this time to the phone, and when he looks up, all Jaemin has to do is raise his eyebrows.

"I've just asked Chenle if they'd go to the club with us. This weekend."

Jaemin's eyebrows remain raised. " _You_ asked _him_?" Another untypical behaviour in a row. It's becoming a pattern.

Jeno smiles again, in a way which now starts to irritate Jaemin. "Thought you would like that."

And so on the weekend they are in the club again.

It's Jeno's turn to buy their usual order of two lemon daiquiris. His eyes smile at Jaemin, softly, as he stands up from his seat and reaches for his wallet in the back pocket of his jeans, before departing to the bar and leaving Jaemin alone with Yeji and her new girlfriend, an unannounced company to their squad. The two women are giggling into each other's ears while holding holds, and as much as normally Jaemin would find that view very endearing, making him feel happy for his friend, this night is different. He's almost irked by it. Sitting there alone, arms crossed against the table in a short-sleeved shirt, he regrets not ushering Jeno to the bar.

Jeno brings their order, then drinks his glass almost in one go, which is slightly untypical for him. From all that Jaemin knows about his boyfriend, Jeno doesn't like getting drunk around strangers, which usually leaves him the most sober person in the group the whole night. He stands up again, goes for more drinks, this time with Chenle. Yeji and her girlfriend, Ryujin, they go to the dance floor, sending Jaemin air kisses, as if to say sorry for leaving him alone. Time speeds up. Jeno and Chenle come back to the table. They joke around, Jeno laughs very loudly. They both finish drinking before Jaemin even takes the plastic straw between his lips. They go for another round. Chenle doesn't come back.

"You're not very fun tonight, huh?" Jeno sets two lemon daiquiris down, right next to Jaemin's previous glass, still full. When he sits down, it's only the two of them remaining at the table.

Jaemin huffs out an amused breath through his nose, his arm instinctively spreading out over the back of their lounge, behind Jeno's back. "You're being fun enough for both of us, hon," he says, pointing with his head at all the empty glasses Jeno has managed to drain in the span of maybe an hour.

Jeno laughs, half embarrassed, half proud. It's a very contradictory combination. "I'm trying my best," he admits. When he tries to pick up his glass, clearly attempting a sip, only Jaemin's hand shoots out, taking the glass away.

"Alright, there," he says, firmly but without judgement. "Slow down, you clubber. It won't be fun anymore if you start puking on me."

Jeno raises both of his hands, palms out, a gesture of surrender. His eyes are now in the state of being permanently narrowed, indicating amusement and relaxation. When he chuckles, Jaemin smells sugar and alcohol.

"I thought we could have more fun like this. You know, without me being all uptight and uncool."

Not sure how to react to these words, spoken out with a clearly tipsy sincerity, Jaemin decides to settle on amusement. He smiles at Jeno. "You're always cool, baby. No worries."

And next thing Jaemin knows, he has Jeno's lips pressing on his own, a spontaneous and a bit messy kiss, with Jeno's hand holding his chin at a strange angle and a string of saliva breaking between them when Jeno pulls away. This leaves Jaemin even more surprised. And breathless. He ends up letting out a laugh and Jeno seems to enjoy this response.

What Jaemin realizes then is that this may be the perfect opportunity to ask his boyfriend a couple of questions concerning their relationship, making use of Jeno's state of drunken joyfulness. But before he manages to form any coherent sentence and let it slip past his lips, he and Jeno are no longer alone. Someone stops by their table, throwing shade over Jaemin's figure and forcing him to detach his eyes from Jeno.

It's a man. Tall, well-built. He has two guns for arms and the violet, scintillating lights of the club outline his mid-length hair. Jaemin squints his eyes in an attempt of recognition but Jeno turns out to be quicker. Saying the man's name loud, which still doesn't ring a ball for Jaemin, he stands up from the lounge and shakes his hand in greeting.

"We've met at the studio last Wednesday," the newcomer tells Jaemin, after noticing his lingering confusion. And then it clicks. It's Jaemin's model.

"Right. Of course. Hi." Jaemin stands up as well, outstretching his arm. Jeno watches their hand shake from up close, then all three of them sit down. The man places his glass of beer beside Yeji's glasses, stamped with red lipstick.

Somehow, without Jaemin even opening his mouth, not to mention saying a word, the model falls into an immediate and very enthusiastic exchange with Jeno, the subject of which comes out of thin air and it takes Jaemin a brief moment to catch up on it. He figures that the two men must be on a similar level of intoxication, which frees them of any sense of awkwardness, but if he didn't know better, he could have assumed them to be old friends.

"Wouldn't have expected to meet you so randomly," the man comments after some time, now directing his words to Jaemin in particular. "That must be destiny, huh?"

Once again, Jaemin finds himself feigning a laugh. Neither Jeno nor the model seem to identify it as such. "Yeah. What a coincidence. Wow." He makes a move with his hands, as if to emphasise his non-existent enthusiasm, and then falls silent.

Immediately after, the two men instinctively come back to talking between each other, Jaemin assuming the role of an auditor. Diagnosing himself as being too sober, Jaemin reaches for his lemon daiquiri, taking three big gulps. As he drinks, he hears the subject of the discussion turning to the photoshoot. Jeno compliments the model's looks and his voice comes out threateningly close to flirtatious, making Jaemin's body tense. The model compliments Jeno's looks too, and Jeno spills into laughter, loud and flattered, his body leaning against the table with one hand propping his chin, eyes narrowing even more. Their faces are now inches apart.

At the back of his mind, Jaemin's aware that he has a few second long opening to jump in and intervene, but something stops him, an unfamiliar sensation of disbelief and curiosity, and he lets things happen. The model's body shifts, quickly, and in the very next second, his hand is on the back of Jeno's neck, dragging him closer. They start kissing and Jaemin finds himself frozen to the spot, watching them in perfect silence, not daring to move, as if any of his gestures could stop the scene from unfolding. Which, as he realizes with surprise, he doesn't want.

The kiss is wet and fast, full of unexpected passion. Jeno mindlessly tugs the man's shirt in his fist, keeping him close, to which the man reacts by moving his hand up Jeno's nape, tangling his fingers into Jeno's hair. Even from this angle, Jaemin can see the man's tongue pushing into Jeno's mouth, and how Jeno quickly swallows, his Adam's apple moving, nostrils flaring wide with breathlessness. Despite himself, Jaemin feels his cock stir with interest. He breathes shudderingly out.

Moments later, the kiss is over.

The two men disconnect their mouths for air and Jeno leans back against the lounge he shares with Jaemin, his eyes still fixated on the model. The model, smug smile dragging the corners of his lips upward, he rearranges his hair before looking at Jaemin. "I think your boyfriend likes me too," he remarks, with clear amusement. Jaemin can't help the breathless laugh that escapes his dry mouth.

When the man leans closer to him, Jaemin senses a quiver of excitement, immediately mixed with panic. He looks at Jeno and Jeno nods his head, so slightly that it seems like only Jaemin can notice it. Only then does Jaemin allow himself to lean over as well.

When Jaemin and his model stumble out of the taxi, their limbs entangled and mouths connected, limiting their movement, Jeno's the one to pay for the ride. He also ends up in charge of opening the doors, which Jaemin makes notice of with amusement, his last daiquiri, drunk in hurry before they left the club, finally kicking in. It results in the feeling of weightlessness. He's relaxed, at last. And very needy.

In the apartment, Jeno turns on the lights and shows the direction to their bedroom, which makes all three of them burst into some kind of infectious, addictive, drunken laughter. A few pieces of clothing are dropped in the hall, most notably Jaemin's tight jeans, which usually take a while to be taken off, and by the time they land on the bed, Jaemin's naked from his waist down, his painfully hard cock apparent to everyone present, slowly beginning to leak precome.

There is a brief pause during which, as Jaemin instinctively assumes, their guest searches his pants for condoms. In the meantime, Jeno begins kissing Jaemin on the mouth, momentarily making it feel like it's just the two of them in the whole room, like usual. They're both kneeling on the bed, Jeno's hand raking through Jaemin's hair, already dishevelled and growing damp, Jaemin's hands working on Jeno's fly, struggling, then succeeding in taking his cock out, giving it a few sloppy strokes. They only stop kissing once called out by a third voice, which seems to emerge out of some thick blurriness of vision. The model's standing in front of them, in front of their bed, naked and with his erection in his hand, condom on. Jeno's voice says something but Jaemin has a hard time figuring it out, barely absorbing the sounds. Blood is thumping in his ears and his eyes are growing more and more clouded over with each passing second.

Jeno takes his chin in his fingers, kisses him again, as if to bring back his focus. Then, with their lips still in close proximity, he looks Jaemin in the eyes before asking, "So... are we doing this?"

Jaemin chuckles fondly before nodding his head yes, with confidence. Jeno swallows his laughter in another kiss.

When Jaemin wakes up, he opens his eyes to the empty bed beside him and, in his peripheral vision, Jeno stepping into the bedroom, careful not to be too loud in case Jaemin's still sleeping. He's dressed in his pyjama pants, barefoot, with his hair damp from a shower and a pair of glasses on his nose, as opposed to last night's contact lenses.

"Hi," is first thing Jaemin says to him, lifting one hand to cover his eyes from the sunlight seeping in through the curtains. His voice comes out hoarse, clearly worn out from making too much noise last night.

Jeno holds the doorframe in his two hands as he leans against it, lurking into the room, one leg wiggling a little. "We're eating breakfast," he announces, _we_ indicating that the model guy is still present at their apartment. "Do you want me to bring you some or you'll come over?" In the question there's hidden another one, more audible in Jeno's voice rather than in his exact words. It's about how Jaemin's feeling after last night. Physically. Jeno sounds calm but with a tint of concern.

"I'm good," Jaemin says to that. As if to illustrate his point, he sits up, propping himself on one hand. There is a slight dizziness that comes with the movement, but it's not as bad as he may have expected it to be.

"Painkillers?" Jeno prompts then, quickly reading the signs of hungover off of Jaemin's wincing face. He's still standing at the entrance but now with his temple pressed to the doorframe, his head tilted as he looks with interest at Jaemin's actions. Behind his back, coming from the other side of the apartment, is the sound of cutlery scratching a plate.

"I'll grab some when I get to the kitchen," Jaemin replies. "I need to get a shower first." Saying the words, he finally pushes the duvet off of his body before sliding his legs over the side of the bed, about to stand up, naked and with dried come on his chest. He doesn't pay much attention to that.

"I'll take care of the sheets," Jeno quickly declares.

Jaemin waves his hand, like that's too far into the future for him to take into consideration at the moment.

When he gets out of the bathroom and walks into the kitchen, he's the third person to have taken a shower but the only one to be fully dressed up, the other two men still showing off their naked chests. Not that Jaemin minds. Seeing the model seated at one side of the table, with his leg up on the chair, he opts for a slight raise of his chin instead of a verbal greeting.

"How are you feeling?" the man asks.

Jaemin walks past him and Jeno, to the empty chair in front of a full plate. The meal is still warm judging by the vague cloud of steam rising from above it. "Fine. I'm not that easy to break," he says, a bit defiant.

The man gives a laugh. He has a mug of coffee in his hand and Jeno stands up to pour some for Jaemin too. What follows is a bit of bustle; Jeno brings a mug out of the kitchen unit, the model sips on his coffee and Jaemin takes his painkiller, washing it down with Jeno's glass of orange juice before turning to his breakfast.

"So," the model starts off again, just in time for Jeno to put the coffee on the table and sit down. "That was something."

Jaemin smiles, with one corner of his lips, dividing his attention between eating and the other two men, both looking at him. "Something is the right word."

"Do you do this often?"

Jaemin blows into his mug of coffee, decides that it's safe to drink and takes a mouthful. "It may please to know that you're our first one."

The man makes a surprised face and Jeno quickly comes in with an explanation. "We've been planning this for some time."

Jaemin looks at him over his mug of coffee. "Two weeks. And _you_ 've been planning this."

Now it's Jeno's turn to smile. He seems pleased with himself in a way that Jaemin finds cute. Drinking, he moves his hand under the table, placing it on Jeno's thigh.


	3. Chapter 3

"I can't believe we really did this," Jaemin says, once the model leaves their apartment. His voice holds a mixture of laughter, disbelief and pleased satisfaction, the last of which causes Jeno to stir, immediately looking up, big-eyed, as if he's just been softly stroked on his chin.

They're alone again, happily so, both seated on the bottle green couch, as if last night's fun used up all of their energy, bodies heavy and unwilling to budge, requiring a long day of relaxation to recharge.

One leg up on the couch, the other comfortably folded under his butt, Jaemin balances his second mug of coffee on his thigh as he leans towards Jeno. "Who knew you would have such wild ideas on your mind," he teases. Contrary to his early-morning pre-coffee self who seemed unsure about the previous night's events, the present moment Jaemin sounds relaxed and playful.

"I owe a lot to the alcohol," Jeno admits, a bit coy about his actions. Something in him, that part of his mind which cares more for his boyfriend's pleasure than his own, it makes him grow hot with affection. He moves closer to Jaemin, very obviously yearning for a touch, and Jaemin complies, his one hand reaching for Jeno's, their fingers intertwining.

For a while, they stay silent. With no phone calls coming and nobody to meet up with, they enjoy their moment of peace.

And then, it's Jaemin who asks the question. "Do you want to do this again?"

The words make Jeno snap his eyes open, which he hasn't realised were closed. He looks up at Jaemin, again, from where his head is pressed against Jaemin's arm, and softly nods his head. "Sure. Of course." Because if this is indeed something Jaemin wants, and if it results in them being so calmly relishing each other's presence, Jeno finds himself unable to say no.

Jaemin hums.

The first time is smoothly followed by another, barely a week later. Once again, it's at a club, where they go without any additional company, just the two of them, Jaemin dressed up in one of his tight, almost see-through shirts, which he fondly calls _his best slutty look_ as he puts it on in front of a mirror, Jeno watching him from the bed.

Just like the previous time, it takes a few drinks for Jeno to relax, his walls gradually breaking down, one by one, in time with the sips of daiquiri, replaced by tipsy joviality. The drinks are brought to the table by Jaemin who uses the occasion to look around the club, studying the clientèle and trying to meet the eyes of someone attractive. Jeno watches him come back in a sort of dizzying trance, both admiring and fearing the ease with which Jaemin smiles at strangers that pass him by. It's a good thing, Jeno thinks to himself, to witness this side of his boyfriend's personality. To let it break free at last.

"There's a guy," Jaemin announces as soon as he sits down. He places the drinks on the table, so quickly that one of them spills a few drops. He doesn't seem to pay attention. His widened eyes are sparkling with the club lights. "Blond hair in a ponytail. Denim jacket." As soon as he says the words, a laugh breaks from his lips, nervously excited, making him sound youthful and innocent. "Check him out."

Staring at Jaemin's face, Jeno feels himself reflect the emotions. He smiles, then chuckles, and soon both of them are giggling, high on the knowledge of the endless possibilities that have been opened to them. The music isn't particularly loud where they're sitting and Jeno can hear Jaemin's laughter to the detail. It makes his pulse flicker.

"Did you talk to him?" he asks Jaemin. With his arms crossed on the table, he leans forward, as if to avoid anyone hearing them, even though it seems highly unlikely. His face and Jaemin's are now inches apart and Jaemin has his lips on the plastic straw. When he sucks, his cheeks hollow in a very obscene way.

"Only made eye-contact. But I think he might follow me."

Jeno looks at him, impressed. "That was fast."

Jaemin laughs. "I've told you I'm good at this." He lowers his head, picking the straw between his fingers, guiding it back to his mouth, then sucking. Jaemin's eyes move from Jeno to the dancefloor, scanning it in search of the blond man, and Jeno registers the exact moment Jaemin finds him. Jaemin's demeanour changes in a split second. He rearranges himself in his chair, comfortably lying his arms on the table, slightly tilting his head to a side. And the way he sucks on the straw changes too. Noticing that, Jeno feels his heart beat quicken. There's a surge of heat and anticipation that rushes through his body.

Watching the scene unfold right before his eyes is as fascinating for Jeno as the previous time.

The blond stranger reminds him of the model when it comes to his body type. He's just as tall and muscular, clearly fitting some kind of Jaemin's preferred type. He's a clear top too. There's a degree of confidence and power that's tangible in all of his moves, most noticeably when he takes a chair from a nearby table and pushes it to theirs, sitting himself down right beside Jaemin.

Without missing a beat, Jaemin smiles at him, welcoming his arrival. The expression on his face is pure flirtation, and Jeno finds himself overwhelmed by the thought that he is the one to have released this. He's invited Jaemin to do this.

Briefly, they exchange names and the blond stranger leans towards Jaemin, so close Jaemin must smell his breath. Slouching, he points at Jeno with his chin. "That is?"

"Boyfriend," Jaemin supplies instantaneously. "We come as a package." It's a joke but also a clear condition.

And so it happens.

The second time turns into another, and then it's a new weekend activity that they both indulge in.

"A new weekend activity?" Yeji repeats after him, incredulity ringing clear in her voice.

Just like their previous conversation, this one also takes place in Yeji's kitchen. Seated in a chair opposite to Jaemin's, the woman has all of her attention focused as she absorbs every word he says with the obvious awareness that the stakes have now been raised.

"How many times?" she asks.

It takes a moment for Jaemin to respond, and the very idea of it being so often that it requires counting forces an abrupt laugh from Yeji's lips. It's a sign of shock as much as amusement. "Six," he responds at last, forcing himself to shrug his shoulders as an addition.

"Oh wow."

"Just before I came here, he was scrolling through a dating app." He reaches for his mug of coffee, which Yeji was so kind as to prepare, and tries to make his voice sound high-spirited. "So that's new, huh?"

Yeji's facial expression reveals she finds their current sexual life quite impressive. "You made _Jeno_ willingly search for hook-ups?" she asks and Jaemin nods his head. "With whom both of you spend breath-takingly exquisite nights?" Jaemin nods again. "Let's make something clear. Are you _complaining_ about it?"

Jaemin frowns. "I'm not _complaining_. Don't get me wrong. The sex is great and all--"

"You're hooking up with tops who are totally your type. That sounds like a dream come true to me."

"It is," Jaemin agrees, though the tone of his voice could suggest otherwise. "We _are_ having fun. And he likes it too. I know that."

"Then where's the issue?" Now it's Ryujin's voice. She steps into the kitchen, casually invading their conversation, which she must have eavesdropped on from the corridor. She's wearing a bathrobe and her hair is falling in wet strands over her face, as she stops by the kitchen counter, looking at Yeji, then Jaemin. "What? She's already told me everything. I may just as well join you."

Jaemin waves one hand like it doesn't matter to him anyway, then rubs his temples. "I don't know," he replies, to the earlier question. And it's an honest answer. He doesn't know the reason behind this weak feeling of uneasiness that still smoulders at the back of his mind at the thought of their regular sex escapades. "It's _Jeno_. It's just weird."

Yeji exchanges looks with her now girlfriend. "Maybe you've woken up a beast," she jokes, at which words Jaemin cringes. Not the exact term he would use to describe his boyfriend. "You never know a guy--"

"Yeji. Please."

"Listen." Now Ryujin cuts in. With one hand holding a glass of orange juice, and putting the carton to the side, she points at Jaemin. "It's just sex. Those are just strangers. What's the worst that could happen?"

First time Jeno came to see the studio, Jaemin felt mildly anxious, like part of him remained expectant of a negative reaction, despite Jeno's constant claims of approval. He opened the front door after a moment of fumbling with the keys, then pushed it open, almost theatrically, letting both of them step in the same moment.

Having come here directly after work, Jeno slid both of his hands into the pockets of his office suit pants, the jacket held under his armpit. He stopped and took a good look around. Jaemin waited for his reaction.

"This place is huge," Jeno said, with a tint of awe in his comment. "My office isn't this big and I've got to share it with nine guys."

Jaemin chuckled. He closed the door behind them, a bag with their takeout in his hands. "Today it's all ours," he said, stealing a peck off of Jeno's cheek. Jeno smiled at that, approvingly. "Let me show you the kitchen area."

"Kitchen area," Jeno repeated.

He followed Jaemin's steps to the small door on the side, his neck craning, eyes darting to and fro, taking in all the details of the place. Jaemin put the bag on the little plastic table inside the kitchen, then brought out two plates out of the kitchen counter, together with chopsticks.

"This," Jeno said, noticing the coffee machine that stood in the corner. He pointed at it. "Now I know why you like this place so much." Once again, his words earned a laugh out of Jaemin's mouth and Jeno smiled, proud of himself.

They talked about the equipment of the studio and the other renters, with whom Jaemin had already met and planned their weekly timetable for the upcoming month. As they spoke, Jaemin arranged the noodles on the two plates and once he was ready to pick them up and take out of the kitchen, Jeno stopped him. Cornering Jaemin against the kitchen counter, he brought their lips together into another spontaneous but sweet kiss, of which he was a big fan, just as he enjoyed brief, little touches, fingers skimming, shoulders brushing, and long cuddles on the couch. As Jaemin had noticed some time ago, it was usually Jeno who initiated moments like this, craving physical intimacy almost every hour of the day.

"And how was the first photoshoot?" Jeno asked, once their bodies detached, taking his plate and walking out of the kitchen two steps behind Jaemin. There was a stunning view from the ceiling-high windows, exactly where Jaemin wanted for them to sit down.

"It was good, actually."

Jeno hummed as they sat on the windowsill. "Who was your first model?" he asked, looking outside. He had one leg up, the other dangling from the windowsill, almost touching the floor. He balanced the plate on his knee and while taking the first mouthful of the noodles, lit up by the squares of strong summer sunlight pouring in through the grilled window, he looked serene and content, so much so that Jaemin felt his fingers itch to hold a camera.

"About that," he replied. "It was a commission. Remember that ex of mine? Jaehyun?"

They continue with the same system for another month, always choosing their lover together and always both participating in the act, Jaemin as the centre of attention, the lure for strangers and their big prize in bed, Jeno as a side character, witnessing Jaemin's pleasure first hand. Practice makes it easier, and soon Jeno finds himself able to do without alcohol, comfortably following Jaemin's lead, watching him flirt with other men with a gradually diminishing sense of jealousy.

It's always there, of course, the little voice at the back of Jeno's head that tells him he may not be as skilled or fun as some of the guys they hook up with, but he has it under control now. He learns how to deal with it, keep it in check, not show it to anybody. Because Jaemin, lying flat on his back, his body almost limp under the other man's strong hands, being rhythmically thrusted into, he still looks Jeno in the eyes. When he moans and when he loses his voice, when he arches his back at the sudden jolts of pleasure or digs his fingers into the man's back, he doesn't stop looking at Jeno. That's what makes it easier.

Until one day Jeno's stuck at work and he has to make a phone call from the main hall, announcing to Jaemin that he won't be home until late at night. He's standing by the water dispenser, back pressed against the wall.

"You don't know how long it will take you?" Jaemin asks.

Jeno bites on his lower lip, then releases it, a muscle sliding in his jaw. "It's a big system failure. We'll be stuck there until it's fixed."

Jaemin makes a disappointed sigh, but keeps speaking with some amusement to his voice. "Longer than seven pm?"

Jeno immediately realizes what's the meaning behind the question. In the midst of all the chaos reigning in the offices of their company, he's completely forgotten about their arrangements for the night and the memory hits him with double the force. Phone still pressed to his ear, he massages his eyes, tired of endlessly staring at the screen, lifting his glasses off of his nose with the motion. "Definitely longer than seven pm," he declares, after a pause.

Jaemin doesn't say a word and Jeno feels almost irritated by it. He breathes heavily into the phone and only then does Jaemin clear his throat. "I'll text him not to come over."

At the tiny note of disappointment in Jaemin's voice, Jeno's heart takes an anxious leap in his chest, threatening to reach up his throat. He quickly scans the hall for anyone who could eavesdrop on their conversation before hurriedly cutting in, "you don't have to."

"Jeno."

"I mean it," he insists. "If you want to meet up with him just the two of you, that's fine with me." For a moment, they're both silent on the line, each of them waiting for the other's reaction, not willing to fully reveal their cards. "I'll be on phone if you need me," he adds.

Jaemin hums in agreement. "Okay," he says at last, vaguely convinced. As soon as the word reaches Jeno's consciousness, first only received as a meaningless cluster of phonemes by his ear, he feels his insides twist and his stomach turn, bitterness rising up to his mouth. Reality catches up with him. "Alright, I'll meet with him."

"Good," Jeno replies, automatically, out of his control. "You'll tell me how it went when I get back home." He forces himself to assume a more playful tone, and he knows that it works when Jaemin's voice relaxes too.

"To the detail, baby."

Jeno's the first to hang up, and for a couple of long moments after the phone call is finished, he finds himself unable to move, his body stuck to where it's leaning against the wall. He takes a deep breath in and then someone appears on his left, a man's body coming to a halt in front of the water dispenser, taking a plastic cup and setting it under the tap.

"Boyfriend?" Mark asks, pointing at the phone in Jeno's hand. When Jeno's eyes grow in size, he shrugs. "I didn't hear anything. Just guessing."

Spool backwards one year, to when Jaemin was still a cook at the Chinese restaurant.

They were driving in the car, Jeno behind the wheel and Jaemin on the passenger's seat, staring through the window at the streets of Jeno's hometown, his face turned away from Jeno, neck visibly tensed.

It was going to be the first meeting between Jaemin and his parents, and simultaneously the first time Jeno was bringing someone home, and just thinking about it made Jeno's whole body sizzle with excitement. He couldn't keep his lips from smiling nor his hands from joyfully tapping the wheel, and the whole way here he had spent telling Jaemin stories from his childhood, introducing people from different periods of his life, mostly family members, and connecting them through various plot threads. Only now, as they drove into the town after three hours of a trip, he had run out of things to say. He just couldn't wait to be there.

What Jaemin was thinking, however, he couldn't quite tell. It seemed like the closer they got to their destination, the less Jaemin spoke, until finally falling completely silent, only his eyes quietly taking the views in, neck craning each time Jeno pointed at a place saying, "That's my primary school," or "Here's the candy store I've told you about."

There was a brief pause as they drove through a park and Jaemin suddenly turned his head towards Jeno's, his face assuming an unfamiliar to Jeno expression. "Jeno," he said, his voice almost cracking. "I think I'm actually nervous."

Jeno's first reaction was a laugh. "Nervous? You? Na Jaemin?"

Jaemin frowned with mock anger. "I feel like I'm about puke," he insisted.

"Maybe that's just motion sickness." When Jeno giggled again, Jaemin nudged him with his shoulder.

"I'm serious now. I'm freaking out."

And truth be told, Jeno had all the right to be surprised. Ever since they first met, there weren't any occasions for Jeno to see this side of Jaemin, frozen into motionlessness with a truly worried look on his face, barely saying a word and not knowing what to do. He slowed the car down, ready to take a quick stop and let Jaemin get some fresh air.

"I've never seen you act like this," he pointed out, and Jaemin made a nervous laugh in response, which may have been intended to sound ironic.

"It's because I've never felt like this," he confessed. Jeno gave him a questioning glance. "I'm about to talk to your parents. Wow."

"They won't bite you."

"Of course."

"They're all going to love you," Jeno promptly added. "Just like I do."

And at that remark, Jaemin rolled his eyes. "You don't know that."

One quick move, Jeno stopped looking at the road, instead leaning to his right and brushing a kiss on Jaemin's cheek. "I do know that."

Whether the stranger has been in their apartment during Jeno's absence, he can barely tell upon his return. There are no obvious signs for Jeno to spot, no pieces of clothing scattered on the floor, objects knocked over or meaningful stains on any of the surfaces. Jeno makes sure to check for those while undressing, and even though he tries to keep it clandestine, Jaemin notices immediately.

"We behaved well," he explains in a joking manner, appearing in the doorframe to the bathroom. He doesn't look exhausted nor drained of his energy, like Jeno would have expected. Quite the contrary: the way in which he approaches Jeno is playful, energized, as if ready for round two.

Jeno tries to reciprocate Jaemin's smile. "I see no tables turned over," he points out. "Seems like no fun." It's a joke, even though his voice doesn't sound too amused. Jaemin recognizes it as such anyway, coming up close to where Jeno's standing in the middle of the room, taking his jacket off, which after so many hours at work feels more like his second skin.

"I've just told you," Jaemin says, his voice hushing down to a whisper, gaining a sensual quality to it. With the jacket dropped on the floor, he stops right behind Jeno's back, his words vibrating against Jeno's nape. "I was a good boy."

Jeno stirs. He turns around to look Jaemin in the eyes, feeling his whole body tense. "Jaemin."

"I was thinking about you the whole time." This confession, spoken out in a subdued voice, with so much confidence and so heavy with eroticism, it sends a shudder down Jeno's back, which Jaemin notices and smiles at, self-satisfied. He takes a step forward and reaches with his hand to place it on Jeno's crotch, only there is no erection to catch hold of. Slightly confused, he looks up at Jeno, who now sucks a sharp breath in.

"I think I'm too tired," he feels the need to explain.

There's a cute frown creasing Jaemin's focused face, like Jeno's words are a challenge he's willing to take. His hand moves down Jeno's cock, located in one leg of his pants, putting more pressure. "If you just give me a moment..." he says, with determination, meaning a moment to bring it into full erection.

Jeno's breath becomes shallow but he shakes his head no, insisting. "I need a shower," he blurts out. "Another time?"

One week later, it becomes a regular thing too.

Their relationship now fully open, without the need for Jeno to participate or appear in the role of a spectator, it takes even less effort for Jaemin to find new men to sleep with. All that's necessary to finalize the process is a quick discussion, in person or through a bunch of text messages, at the end of which Jeno always finds himself having no other choice but to say yes.

Of course he wants Jaemin to have fun. Why wouldn't he. There is no way could he stop it now that Jaemin clearly enjoys it.

So when Jaemin texts him in the middle of a work day, mentioning an attractive model, with whom he has a high chance of going to bed, all Jeno has to say is, "Go ahead," without a moment's hesitation. Being asked for a permission slip is a flattering ritual in itself, he tries to convince himself.

Enter Mark.

Jeno can't call his mother nor is he willing to listen to Chenle's same useless advice twice, so next Friday evening, he ends up inviting Mark for a drink. It's intended to be a casual meeting of two co-workers, nothing too long or too personal, yet he chooses a different place that the company's favourite bar. Mark comments how he hasn't ever been there and Jeno admits that it's his first time too, after which they both chuckle, still nervously. Jeno proposes that he's going to pay, insists when Mark wants to disagree. At the beginning, they remain rather quiet. Between the usual comments about their workplace and colleagues, there are many stretched-out moments of silence, and Mark acts similarly to how he acted when they first talked a few months back. He has something in him that reminds Jeno of himself, a certain level of distance or quietness that leaves more air to breathe with.

They've been sitting there for maybe an hour, their chat becoming less constrained with every passing minute, and it's a comfortable change of pace for Jeno, a different setting in which he can fit himself in, a little bit altered, more relaxed.

And then, as he's going to the bar to buy more beer, here comes a text message, vibrating impatiently in Jeno's hand.

"He'd like to meet with you next time." Jeno reads off of the screen, so quick that the words blur and float in front of his eyes. _He_ is Jaemin's current hook-up. _Meet next time_ means have sex.

Jeno makes the order, the bartender smiles at him. Another text. "He wants to watch us have sex," Jeno reads off the screen, waiting for the order. Immediately followed by, "What do you say?"

Once again, Jeno turns off the screen, shoves the phone into the back pocket of his pants. His whole body lights up, cheeks growing hot and perhaps noticeably red. He pays for the order and brings it to the table, spilling a little bit of beer, which Mark jokes about. Jeno laughs too, but a bit nervous, like his life outside of the bar now invaded it, ruining the perfect illusion of peace and quiet. He sits down and that's when his phone vibrates again. Not once. A few times in a row, incessant. Mark notices that.

Pause.

"Jeno," he says. "Your phone's going off." His casual tone makes it sound like it's something Jeno hasn't noticed.

Jeno clears his throat. "It's just... Jaemin."

Mark raises an eyebrow. "Your boyfriend?"

"Yeah."

"Why don't you reply?" Mark pauses, waiting for Jeno to say something, but then seems to change his mind, asking a different question instead. "What's up with you and your boyfriend?"

"Wow." Jeno makes an awkward laugh. "Do I just scream relationship problems or what?" The words are intended as a joke and Mark chooses to interpret them as such, barely stirring.

"You seemed a bit shaken last time I saw you talk over the phone," Mark explains.

Jeno looks away, then back at Mark's face, huffing a laugh out. "I guess I'm being too obvious."

Mark leans forward, a certain expression appearing on his face which is pure concentration, like when he stares at his computer, two desks away from Jeno's. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Jeno picks up his glass, taking a mouthful to earn himself more time for forming a rejoinder. "I invited you for a beer, though. Not a private consultation," he says after swallowing.

"You know what they say. Sometimes it's easier to confide in a stranger than someone you know."

When Jeno comes back home, he finds Jaemin seated in the circle of light thrown by the living room's floor lamp, legs tucked under his bottom and body curled into the corner of the couch, reading.

"I called Chenle," Jaemin starts, not raising his eyes from the book. "I thought you went to meet with him."

Jeno comes closer, then stops at the doorway to the living room, holding onto the wooden doorframe as he attempts to take off his shoes, slightly losing his balance. He isn't exactly drunk but his motor skills aren't at their highest. "I was at a bar. With a colleague."

Jaemin turns the page. There is no anger in his voice or moves. He doesn't seem very engaged in their conversation. "Department meeting?"

Jeno manages to kick his one shoe off. It takes him so long because instead of focusing on undressing himself, he's intensely staring at Jaemin's riveting image. With the living room lamp directly above his head of blond hair, light dripping down his shoulders and back, he seems more like an angel with a shiny halo than a fellow human being. Other than blinking his eyes and turning the page once, he doesn't move and doesn't seem to feel anything. He's more like a painting or a photograph, a single snapshot of life frozen into immobility, some kind of immortalized beauty. Or maybe Jeno's just drunk.

"No. Just the two of us," he says.

Jaemin releases a breath through his mouth which is to confirm that he's heard Jeno's words. End of conversation.

Mark brings more beers to the table. Same bar, same time. Jeno's even wearing the same shirt. All of their meetings are so similar because Jeno's situation simply hasn't progressed one bit.

"Okay," Mark says, putting the glasses down, one in front of Jeno, one in front of his own chair. Now there's a whole bunch of them on the table. They've been sitting here for more than an hour and Jeno's already feeling the words collect at the tip of his tongue, like he's about to spill them out in a rush of drunk talkativeness. "I know it's a silly question, but why don't you just say that to him?"

Jeno takes his glass and drinks before answering. "Say to him what?"

"That you don't want this."

"I can't." Jeno's response is immediate. "I'm the one who proposed it."

There's a brief glimmer of surprise in Mark's eyes, in reaction to the piece of information which Jeno realizes he hasn't shared yet, not over the course of their last few meetings. Jeno isn't doing his best job explaining the intricates of the situation, jumping between facts and barely keeping any sense of logical order, with no prompting on Mark's side. Acknowledgement of his own inability to speak further ignites Jeno's irritation.

"Why is everyone so surprised?" he asks, in an accusatory tone. "Is it really so unbelievable?"

Mark makes a facial expression which says, how can he know that. And that's true. A bunch of meetings at a bar don't add up to a great knowledge of Jeno's character. Mark watches Jeno take a deep breath in. "You've said that it's Jaemin who wants this."

"He does."

Mark's eyes narrow slightly, with precision that's about to seep into in his voice too. "Do _you_ want this?"

More irritation. Jeno crosses his arms on his chest. "Maybe I do?"

"Have you slept with anyone since you opened things up?" Then, Mark adds, "without Jaemin being present."

Jeno doesn't have to use words for his answer to be clear. He hasn't.

"Do you want to, then?" Mark's words sound like genuine curiosity, like he's directing Jeno onto the path of self-discovery out of his good will, another relationship counsellor that Jeno finds himself in need of because he so clearly sucks at voicing out his needs, at being cool with things, at doing cool stuff, at being someone who fully satisfies Jaemin and keeps him happy.

Thinking of all that, Jeno's helpless anger spikes and he finds himself suddenly rising from his chair, leaning forward, across the table, towards Mark, reaching out and taking hold of Mark's neck before pressing a kiss to his lips, because he needs to vent things out and act spontaneously. Because he wants to feel how Jaemin feels when he does this, wants Jaemin to feel what Jeno feels when things happen without his knowledge and participation, and he wants to feel _something_.

At first, Mark remains motionless, clearly taken off-guard and unable to decide how to react. His body tenses, resists, and he almost backs away, out of Jeno's hold, before changing his mind and opening his mouth instead.

There's a newly found sense of urgency that fills Jeno's body once he leaves the motel room.

He pays at the reception desk, counting the banknotes in a hurry, two coins rolling out of his wallet, down the floor, then rushes outside to where the wind strongly sweeps over the parking lot, late evening sky bearing the color of cold purple. Everything that happened between him and Mark happened through a kind of fog or blur, things speeding up and growing imprecise, hurried touches and sloppy kisses, but Jeno finds himself feeling little to no regret about it. Sitting in the taxi, he does his shirt anew noticing a mistakenly omitted button, then fixes his hair while looking at his reflection in the taxi's window, breathless, heat-flushed.

He doesn't arrive home until nine pm.

He walks into the apartment knowing perfectly well what he wants to say, after discussing it so many times with Mark. But then he sees Jaemin and his mind goes blank.

The man is standing in the hall, waiting, his arms crossed on his chest in a way that emphasises his broad shoulders. He looks expectant. In silence, he watches Jeno close the door behind himself, then take off his coat, shoes, jacket. When Jeno finally finishes, there are a few steps of safe space between them.

"Jaemin--" he wants to begin, only Jaemin's voice cuts him off and shuts him up. It's stronger, more confident. It drowns Jeno's voice out.

"I've been trying to contact you for three hours," Jaemin says, and the words carry a clear accusation, which sends a cold wave all over Jeno's body. It feels like Jaemin knows. Like just one look at Jeno's face suffices for him to know everything that Jeno did wrong. Like he's just realized the mess they're in and wants a way out, leaving the sinking ship behind.

But then, all Jaemin says is, "Guess who's just called me."

And a wince instantaneously shoots across Jeno's face. "Oh no."

"You're guessing it right. Your mother." Jaemin's voice sounds tired. Jeno hates hearing it like this. "Don't think I want to be talking about this again."

"Jaemin."

"You lied to me." Taken by surprise, Jeno doesn't even open his mouth to oppose. He just stands there, frozen and big-eyed like a deer in the headlights, while Jaemin keeps talking, "You told her about our conversation. You always tell her everything. It's only when it comes to me that things just magically escape your memory."

Jeno hurriedly looks for anything to say. "I didn't want to anger you," he blurts out, but barely sounds like an excuse. It's more of a random sentence that crossed his panicked mind which he caught and held onto, then let out of his mouth.

Jaemin ignores it anyway. "Have you told her we invite other men to our bed too, or am I not going to take a beating over this one?" he asks, in a stingy voice.

Jeno runs a hand over the nape of his neck. "Please."

"She said she's fixed me a job interview next Monday. At the school her friend is a principle of. She said it's all planned and you were supposed to tell me about it." Hearing this and imagining the conversation that unfolded between his mother and Jaemin makes Jeno's whole body squirm with pain, and he can't imagine how it must have felt from Jaemin's perspective. He wants to say something but finds out that his mouth simply won't open. He stands still, exactly where Jaemin's eyes pin him in space.

And then.

It's like the mad rush of thoughts which controlled Jaemin just seconds ago, the whole collected anger and shame, is abruptly stopped before it even left Jaemin's mouth. Everything he wanted to say, about the phone call, Jeno's mother and Jeno's general passivity on the subject, which has bothered him for months, maybe more than a year, it's suddenly gone. His mind is now emptied, clear, and his senses grow sensitive. They become sharper. He looks at Jeno, notices something and his eyes widen. "Did you... meet with someone?" he asks.

He sounds more surprised by the very fact that he has to ask this question, than by the realization that yes, Jeno has _very obviously_ met with someone.

Even now, Jeno can tell that he carries on himself the smell of the cheap hotel room mixed with the specific smell of Mark's body. His clothes are rumpled, hair uncombed. Even though he no longer feels drunk, it's easy to tell that he was, merely a few hours ago. Maybe Jeno's not as smart about the whole thing, not as cool and organized, the way Jaemin is.

"I met... with a colleague," he reveals in a small voice.

Jaemin's face goes pale in a split second, like someone's just applied a different filter on a photograph.

If Jeno had a monologue ready to perform in front of his boyfriend, a last-ditch effort at saving their relationship, there isn't a trace of it left in his mind.

"A colleague?"

Jeno nods.

Jaemin's voice falters midway through the next sentence. "Same one as before?"

"Jaemin," he says, firmly. It's a new kind of insistence, a stubbornness which he didn't know he had in himself.

Jaemin shakes his head. His arms tense, pressing each other closer to his chest, like he's hugging himself tight, shoulders rising with deep breaths taken in. It looks like he's suddenly feeling colder in Jeno's presence. There's a pause, during which Jeno takes a few steps forward, and then. "I don't want you to see him again," Jaemin says, all of a sudden.

Air is knocked out of Jeno's chest. "What?"

"New rule," Jaemin blurts out. It's an unfamiliar voice to come out of Jaemin's mouth. Sounds worried, rushed. It sounds like it's something Jaemin hasn't thought through, hasn't even considered. Jeno realizes that it's a very rare occasion for him to hear Jaemin speak like he makes things up as he goes and isn't sure of them, so unlike his usual self. "No meeting with the same guy twice," Jaemin adds, though there is no special confidence to this demand. It sounds desperate and doesn't fail to rub Jeno the wrong way.

"Why is that a problem all of a sudden?" he asks, his voice now raised. Unexpectedly, he sounds so annoyed that it startles Jaemin, and as soon as he sees Jaemin startled, the irritation is replaced by guilt.

"Jeno. You haven't even asked me."

Pause.

Jeno doesn't say a word. There is no excuse, explanation or apology to go past his lips, only a series of heavy breaths, and Jaemin's features are contorted by a spasm of hurt. There are thoughts crossing his mind which Jeno can read to be hard to bear but can't guess their content. The pause stretches in time but they don't stop the eye contact. Neither of them looks away.

"Who is he?"

Jeno blinks his eyes. "Mark?"

"Mark," Jaemin repeats the name. It sounds strange in Jaemin's voice, like up until now Mark's character existed in some separate dimension only Jeno had the access to. Mark knew of Jaemin but Jaemin didn't know of Mark. Now it's a mutual awareness and everything feels different. "Who is he to you?" he asks, in a whole new voice.

The realization snaps in Jeno's head immediately. "Jesus. Jaemin. I'm not in love with him."

Next thing that happens, it takes Jeno off-guard. Jaemin's arms suddenly disentangle and in two long strides, he's right in front of Jeno, hitting him in the chest with an open hand. "You asshole!"

Jeno steps away, his body recoiling. "What?"

"You scared the fuck out of me!"

"I did?" Jeno's eyebrows rush up his forehead. "What are you talking about?"

Their conversation now moves on to the kitchen where Jaemin, buzzing with caffeine and anger, looks for things to do with his hands.

"You slept with him," he says, a fact to be verified, dropped into the space between them for Jeno to catch it. He opens the fridge and brings out a bottle of beer. In the meantime, Jeno stands by the table.

"I did," he confirms. "Today. For the first time." He looks for a reaction on Jaemin's face but with all the movement, he can't view it properly. "I should have asked you for permission. I'm sorry."

"Doesn't matter." Jaemin pulls out the drawer and brings out a bottle opener, which he then proceeds to use. "I've just realized something," he reveals, like he expects it to be an equally surprising discovery for both of them. "I don't want you to have sex with other men without me being present."

Jeno's face is pure incredulity. "What?"

"I don't know how _you_ don't mind that, but I _do_. I wasn't sure at first, but now I am." He turns towards Jeno, one hand propped on the kitchen counter. "I'm jealous. Here. I've said it."

" _You_ 're jealous?" Once again, Jeno feels a sudden wave of irritation. "What am _I_ supposed to say then?"

"What do you mean?"

"I absolutely hate it when you meet with other men." The words leave Jeno's mouth in a rush, syllables crushing against each other, and he doesn't even have the time to feel embarrassed about their meaning. "I'm jealous even when you go to work and meet with the models. I just didn't want you to know that because I didn't want you to think that I'm... you know."

Jaemin puts the bottle down. Slightly narrowing his eyes, he looks Jeno straight in the face. "That you're what?"

Jeno takes a deep breath in. "I didn't want you to get bored with me. Especially when there's so many handsome men interested in you."

"Jeno--"

"Don't say anything." Jeno has to break the eye-contact. The realization of what he's just confessed hits him with a great force, and shame makes his whole body cringe.

But then, there's no angry response on Jaemin's side, nothing that would make Jeno want for the ground to swallow him whole. Instead, Jaemin comes up closer.

"I'm not interested in anyone else," he says. "I love you, you asshole."

When Jeno looks up, the man's standing so close there are barely inches apart from them. Jeno stares at his mouth, then into Jaemin's eyes. "Can you... say that again?"

"That I love you? I love you." Midway through Jaemin's last word, his face nears Jeno's, then stops. Reading this little move as a request and an invitation, Jeno brings their lips together and consequently allows Jaemin to lead the kiss. It's soft and slow, barely lasting a moment but long enough to make Jeno feel a surge of confidence.

"I'm sorry about the phone call," he says. "I swear I'll talk to her."

Their foreheads are almost touching and Jeno's glasses foggy up with the heat of Jaemin's breathing. "Better talk to _me_ first," he suggests.

Jeno stirs when Jaemin's hand moves up his neck, keening at the touch. "I'll tell you everything," he says. "As long as you promise to always tell me what's on your mind too."

Jaemin's hand brushes through Jeno's hair, then stops. "Like right now?"

Jeno nods.

There's a hum leaving Jaemin's nose. Jeno watches his Adam's apple move as he swallows. "Come take a shower with me," Jaemin tells him. "I want to make you feel good."

Jeno looks into his eyes, hesitating. "You don't mind that I...?"

Jaemin immediately shakes his head no.

They kiss again and while holding Jeno by his neck, now with both hands, Jaemin says, "I can't believe you let us do all of that just because _I_ enjoyed it."

Jeno makes a sound in his throat. "No one said I hated it," he points out. "I just wanted you all to myself a little more."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these guys sure have a lot to talk about, but it's my sincere belief they'll figure it all out off-screen. i just hate writing endings, as you can probably tell

**Author's Note:**

>   
> title and inspiration: au pairs - we're so cool (1981)  
>  _I don't mind if you want to bring somebody home to spend the night  
>  I don't mind your casual affairs, your one-night stands  
> Because I know that I am the main man in your life  
> Your affection is ultimately mine  
> _


End file.
